Harry Potter, Magic Programmer
by FasiahTheHeavenChild
Summary: Harry Potter, with rare mathematical and scientific genius, discovers his own unique brand of magic that operates on a completely different paradigm from everyone else in the wizarding world. Having gained both friends and enemies, he prepares to fight against a mysterious and dangerous organization that attacked him without provocation. -Heavy AU.
1. The Discovery

_Just as a notice to all of you who have read this fic and expressed concerns or asked questions (or those of you who have just stumbled upon this and will express concerns and and ask questions) about romantic pairings, I would like to take this moment to tell you all that this story is Gen, meaning that there will be no main pairings. At the age of eleven, it just seems unlikely for romance to blossom. As such, any romantic pairings will have to wait for a sequel in which the main characters are older. I hope you all enjoy the story! :)_

Chapter One: The Discovery

Harry frowned at the lack of results his experimentation brought. It would probably look very cute to any adult passerby on his seven year old features. Harry would most certainly disagree, though; he wasn't _cute_! What he was, was very frustrated. He'd been experimenting for an entire week and so far had achieved nothing but more hypotheses and theories.

Most would agree that Harry was abnormally bright for a child his age, had he not been so talented at hiding it. In literature and history, Harry was easily years above his peers (in his own humble opinion, of course), but it was in science and maths that he truly soared.

It was not to say that he could solve equations at the speed of light nor could he memorize thousands of useful and useless scientific facts. Harry liked to think of himself as 'conceptually comprehensive', mainly because no other child in his primary school was likely to know either of those words.

In simpler terms, Harry had an unusual knack for understanding the concept of something and how it works and _why_ it works. It just all seemed to fit so perfectly together and made sense, which was more than he could say for any people. Naturally, this gave him a desire to learn more and more about how the world ticked. Humans are, after all, uncannily curious creatures.

It was this desire to learn more about the world that had led Harry to his current experiment, and the frustration it brought. While many things could be said about Harry Potter, that he was stupid or prone to ignore the obvious was not among them. Indeed, while many people reject and dismiss anything that was too 'ridiculous' to fit into their reality, Harry was of the firm belief that reality was only truly limited by the perception and understanding of the one who lived in it. After all, could anyone truly say that something was absolutely impossible? Perhaps it was a childish notion, but Harry figured he was allowed some leeway at the age of seven.

It was a combination of these beliefs and his natural shrewdness that caused Harry to notice a very interesting pattern. Throughout his life, Harry could recall several events which would defy the laws of science and rationality that were accepted as common knowledge among the masses. the occurrences ranged from randomly turning his teacher's wig blue to suddenly appearing atop the roof of his school.

Ordinarily, even Harry would have come up with a separate and sensible explanation for each one of those events, were it not for the fact that they all held two very significant things in common. Firstly, he had never once heard of events similar happening to any other person besides himself, though that alone could he mere coincidence.

The theory of coincidence became much more unlikely when one considered the next thing: the events had always occurred such that the end result would be to his benefit, at least in the short term. This was true of every single one of them without exception. It was as if the occurrences had transpired solely as a result of, and in order to accomplish, his innate desires.

Thinking about all of this for several days had brought Harry to one final conclusion: somehow, he was causing things to happen that violated the widely accepted laws of reality. Until it was disproven, this was the theory he would stick with.

One thing that every science textbook he'd ever read agreed on was that the best way to go about investigating phenomena was through a process called 'The Scientific Method'. Fortunately, it was a rather simple procedure.

Firstly, from observation and inference, one had to draw a hypothesis. This step had already been completed. Well, no, he didn't have a hypothesis, Harry had supposed, but a theory. A hypothesis was more specifically a prediction that would contain the words 'if' and 'then'.

Once his hypothesis was formed, he would have to test it with an experiment. If the resulting data was positive, then it would help to form his next hypothesis. If the resulting data was negative, then it would also help to form his next hypothesis. Either way, he could only gain from it.

That had been his thoughts a week ago, but now Harry was beginning to have doubts. After all of that time spent repeating the cycle of hypothesize, test, re-hypothesize, he had yet to achieve even a single positive result! Harry wondered if perhaps this was how all scientists felt when they kept failing to prove their theories, despite just _knowing_ that they were right.

Were he more well-learned in the scientific method than he was (which, for a seven-year-old, was just asking for the impossible), he would recognize that he was very heavily biased in his experimentation. After all, if he managed to pull this off, it would allow for him to potentially manipulate the universe at his whim. What kind of seven-year-old wouldn't want to be able to violate the laws of reality on command? Fortunately for Harry, though, he was indeed correct in his theory.

This made itself known when Harry was just about to capitulate that he was wrong and just give up on the exciting idea. His frustration at his failure, anger at what his failure meant, and embarrassment at how he ever could have believed otherwise mixed together into a large spike of negative emotion. There was nothing to even be observed! It was all so useless! Such things were completely impossible, anyways!

Harry froze as a sudden breeze seemed to whisper to him the words he had practically chanted to himself like an eternal mantra. _Nothing is impossible._ Then Harry screwed his eyes tightly shut as he felt them sting painfully.

"Stupid random breeze and its stupid dust." Harry muttered as he rubbed his eyes and the pain faded quickly. When he finally opened them, he nearly jumped in shock and bewilderment.

He was surrounded by a cacophony of strange vibrant colors where he was certain there ought not to be any. Upon closer observation, it was revealed that not only were they vibrant but literally emitted their own soft glow. They were not merely randomly floating in the air either, but rather seemed attached to physical objects in some kind of system of lines.

The trees had silvery networks of misty threads and various objects around him also has their own colors, though some looked completely normal. What really three him for a loop was when he realized that he could actually see the strange glowing lines straight through solid objects.

It was almost like a kind of X-ray vision- he could determine the outline of objects he couldn't see simply by analyzing the luminescent strands attached to them (so long as they had strands, that was). If they were present in the trees, did that mean they could be in other living organisms too? Harry whirled around, eager to find out.

There was a system of glowing lines in himself too. Unlike, the children around him, which he found just held dull gray glows in them, he possessed a dazzling myriad of colors. There were reds, greens, blues, purples, yellows, and oranges in all different shades and intensities. There also appeared to be more threads in him than there were in the tree or the other children. He could hardly count all of them, but if he had to estimate, he'd put it at somewhere around ten thousand.

For the life of him, Harry just couldn't figure out what had happened to him. He had felt some pain in his eyes and when he'd opened them, he'd been greeted with strange glowing lines. Harry spent the rest of the day unfocused and hazy, trying to puzzle out just what had happened.

He wasn't foolish enough to alert a teacher. They'd never believed him when he told the truth about things that were reasonably normal, like that his cousin often targeted him in a game called 'Harry Hunting'. As if they'd believe him if he told them he was seeing weird lights!

It finally hit him while he was walking home, and he nearly slapped himself when be realized how obvious it was. Of course, this was simply another one of those odd events! Sure, it was more drastic an effect than all the previous ones had ever had, but it made a lot more sense than anything else he could think up. These effects always worked to his desire, though, so just what was it he was seeing?

Thinking back, he tried to recall _exactly_ what had happened leading up to his strange ability to see these luminescent threads. He had been feeling very agitated at his continued failure in experimenting when his eyes had stung, so he naturally closed them. Upon opening his eyes, the new ability had been present and clear. Was it possible that the stinging in his eyes was actually due to the development of this bizarre visual function instead of just some dust getting blown into his eyes?

One week later, the most probable theory Harry devise was that he was seeing some form of energy wave normally invisible to the human eyes. After all, there were wavelengths that went both above and below the visible light spectrum. This could simply be right next to it and scientists just didn't have a way to detect it yet.

For now, Harry was content to observe all he could and record his findings in his six hundred paged school notebook (one that was supposed to last him through school for the next few years but that he never truly had to use). After he had collected more information, then he would begin to make some inferences. But at this stage, it would be like trying to understand how an electric circuit works without knowing what electricity was.

One thing that really called Harry's attention was the amount of strange energy in the residence of Mrs. Figg, a nice (if somewhat strange) old lady that he sometimes stayed with while the rest of his family was out. He hadn't had the chance to get inside since he'd acquired his new sight, but he could still see enough to know that it was unusual.

For one thing, it looked like there was some kind of barrier surrounding the entire property made up of blue crisscrossing threads the spread out in the shape of a dome. Incidentally, a similar, if much more complex, structure of threads also surrounded his own home at Number Four, Privet Drive. When Harry drew a model of the patterns in his notebook to use as a reference after hours of painstaking detail, something new and interesting happened.

A translucent and slightly luminescent square appeared above his the picture on his notebook. It was like some kind of holographic computer screen from a science fiction movie. It was filled with curious symbols and characters that he didn't understand mixed in with some normal English words and numbers. Even still, everything on it was completely indecipherable to him, even if he could recognize and understand the English words by themselves. It didn't seem to follow the same grammar style he was used to.

Hesitantly, Harry reached out a hand to touch the ethereal projection. When his finger brushed against the surface of it, something resembling a computer keyboard slid out of the bottom of the screen, equally pellucid. The keys on it looked just like those normally found on a regular keyboard except that there were more keys with strange symbols that Harry didn't recognize from anywhere but easily visible in the screen in front of him.

Harry, feeling slightly more confident now, tapped his finger on the 'A' key. An 'a' appeared at the end of the last line of nonsense-script, but that entire line and a couple others became underlined in red. Then Harry noticed that some of the lines he drew in his notebook were gone. Looking back at Mrs. Figg's house, he discovered that those very same threads were missing from the actual barrier. He quickly hit the backspace and the lines were restored.

Wondering what could happen if someone found him next to this weird screen, he copied down all of the strange symbols on a new page in his notebook and tried to figure out a way to turn the mysterious projection off. Hopefully, he would be able to bring it out again.

After a couple minutes of trying different approaches, Harry hit the esc. key. The screen and keyboard blinked out of existence, leaving behind no evidence that it had been there just moments before. Certainly, this was very strange. But that just meant it was a new learning opportunity!

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Another couple of months passed by and Harry had been able to open up the strange computer-thing many more times. It was a simple process, once he'd figured out how to do so. He'd actually come to two different methods.

One way of bringing up the projection was to draw a replica of preexisting threads in the world and focus on them. This would cause the screen to pop up with some text in that strange half runic and half English language already written within. However, it was necessary to make sure that every line of the drawing was an exact copy of the pattern of strange glowing threads. If it was even minutely off, then most of the text would be outlined in red.

Another way was for him to draw a plain circle, line, or other simple shape and focus hard on making the screen come. When he did this, the screen would show up with no text in it. When he typed in that blank screen it created new threads. However, when he did something that caused his lines to become underlined in red, the threads disappeared.

Harry's greatest breakthrough yet was in creating something applicable. By copying some things from prewritten texts and reverse engineering the way each component interacted with each other, Harry was able to create a series of text that wasn't a copy of something else and had no red underlines. It wasn't a particularly large piece of text, but Harry wasn't too concerned with that. He was much more excited by the fact that he'd created a new system of threads and had absolutely no idea what it did.

He spent several hours in the week trying to do something with the new thread system, but he couldn't touch them- his hand just passed through them like a ghost. It was on Saturday, when he was weeding the garden (or at least he was supposed to be), that he finally sparked a reaction from the threads. Apparently, though he couldn't touch them directly, they moved wherever he directed them with his mind, even if he didn't realize that he was actually directing them.

When he'd instinctually twisted the threads in a specific manner, a large shockwave of pure kinetic force burst out from the threads, forcing the grass of the lawn to point outwards and eventually cracking the sidewalk at the end of the property. Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when it happened. Beyond the surprise of the unexpected result, he'd also felt as if some energy had left him.

The next day, Harry tried the same thing (making sure that he was once again outside somas to not blow up his current residence), and once again the shockwave blasted out, rippling the grass and this time reaching the road and cracking it. He couldn't help the triumphant grin that settled on his visage.

Several times over the next month, he used some copying and reconstructing with the strange not-computer to create various different effects. He called each system of lines and the subsequent system of threads that mirrored it a 'spell', in an amused fit of spite against his normality-obsessed relatives. To further that spite, he referred to his entire ability to see and manipulate the threads 'magic', the forbidden word of his family.

Now, after a month of copying script and making spells, he felt that he had enough of an idea what the function many components served to create his own spell completely from scratch. It would he his first completely original spell, one that he'd be able to choose the effect of instead of being surprised every time he tried a new one out.

A pattern that Harry had noticed was that in any given 'sentence' of the script, though Harry figured it was really more of an equation, one side required that he use the same specific white rune. However, it could have a coefficient to increase the amount of it.

The greater the coefficient, the greater the effect. Harry was fairly certain that this white rune represented energy, which was necessary to power any spell. He started out by just using a reddish orange rune to fill the other side of the equation. It looked something like this:

RedRune=EnergyRune

Unfortunately, this was underlined in red, so it wouldn't work. Harry tried adding coefficients to the EnergyRune as he had seen before. The red line disappeared once he used five as the coefficient. Apparently, one RedRune required five EnergyRunes to be sufficiently powered.

Harry smiled and closed the window before activating his spell with a mental twist of the threads. As the spell activated, a tiny flame lit up in Harry's open palm, like a candle but didn't burn him in the slightest. Harry watched in slight awe, even having seen the effects of more potent spells before. This was his very first original spell. The RedRune must have been representative of fire. He made a mental note to start calling it a FireRune.

Harry deactivated his spell and spent some time meddling with his work. He was able to create water, earth, and wind as well. Combining a FireRune and a WaterRune seemed to cause no effect even though it showed no red line for error. Combining an EarthRune and a WindRune did much the same.

However combining a FireRune and a Wind Rune made an orange ball of light that would burn through things much faster than even the fire could. Experimentation showed that it also could melt some kinds of stone. A WaterRune and an EarthRune made nothing but mud, unfortunately. A FireRune and an EarthRune could make a flaming stone appear (which very nearly burned his hand). A WaterRune and an AirRune made fog, something that he supposed could be useful as a smokescreen should he ever need it.

When Harry added two compatible runes together, they would form a single new rune that was different from all the others. The new rune would then appear on his 'keyboard', allowing him to use it directly. Soon, though Harry didn't know it yet, he would be combining combinations of combinations together to form more specific aspects.

His experimenting didn't end there, though. Harry made a drastically significant discovery at the library. The 'grammar' structure of the strange script showed a format very similar to that used in computer programming. So, of course, Harry learned absolutely everything he could about the topic with vigor. Unfortunately there was only so much one could gleaned about computer programming from a school library. Still, he found that it gave him a much better understanding of how the script in his spells worked. He came to call the process of writing the script 'Magic Programming'.

It was then that Harry decided. _I am Harry Potter, the Magic Programmer._


	2. Not Alone

Chapter Two: Not Alone

Harry walked nervously to the door of the house he lived in, knowing that if he was caught doing what he was planning on doing, the consequences for him would be most unpleasant. He was planning to leave his home and neighborhood completely and permanently. He simply couldn't bear to stay there any longer.

For as long as he could remember, Harry had always been with the Dursleys, his aunt, uncle, and cousin who absolutely despised anything they deemed 'abnormal'. They had never really liked him too much and always gave him lots of chores and little attention. Sometimes they would even lock him in the cupboard under the stairs, the place where he also slept. Although he knew his situation could be far worse, he just couldn't take it anymore.

He had developed his magic to a much higher degree of sophistication. He now had over a hundred different runes he could use. His six hundred paged notebook was more than half way full of spells and information about his magic. He figured this would be enough to help him get by for a while. He could easily defend himself against a great number of ordinary people with spells even if they were armed.

Harry had also found ways to learn more about computer programming and also found ways to apply that knowledge to make much more specific and complex spells. He could give conditions for a spell to activate, for example. That way, he could design a spell that didn't require conscious effort to cast but was activated whenever he fell, or swam, or even spoke a specific word. It was certainly much easier than actively focusing on a spell.

Harry winced as the door creaked open loudly and mentally cursed himself for not using a spell to silence the noise. There was no helping it now, though. He speedily exited through the open doorway, closing the door tightly behind him.

Harry hadn't yet managed to engineer a spell that would allow for teleportation or some similar form of travel (though not from lack of trying). He had, however, managed to make a spell that would let him run very, _very_ fast in short bursts with no negative physical repercussions. Unfortunately, it needed a ton of energy to use.

Traveling this way was preferable to something like a bus or train because A) he was alone, B) it allowed for much more control and agility, C) it didn't cost any money, an D) it was just faster.

Harry didn't have a particular destination in mind, so until he found someplace worth settling down in, he supposed he would be something of a nomad. He would just travel, travel, and then travel some more, living his life on his own grounds. The mere idea of it sent sparks of excitement shivering down his spine, having been confined to the same neighborhood for his entire life.

He just headed in a random direction and burst off with enough speed to almost break the sound barrier for a couple seconds before he stopped, panting. Even if his spell protected him from being crushed by drag and similar forces, it was still exhausting.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Harry leaned against the wall of a public library. He was currently in some city in France, though he hadn't bothered to learn the name. He stopped for a moment and thought about what to do now. Originally, he had been stuck in a survival situation, where his focus was always on getting the next meal or avoiding trouble. Now, he had enough food for years kept in an underground stone vault (sort of) that he'd built himself (sort of) that he could speed off to and retrieve food from at any time and he didn't need to avoid much trouble since he could knock out a large amount of people with just a single spell.

There was very little that was interesting in Harry's life, since he seemed to have hit a block in his magic self-studying. Simply put, Harry was bored. Not only was he bored, but unbearably so, to the point that he would even accept coming under great danger just to ease the sheer mind numbing boredom. Nothing good could possibly come from boredom of that level, so Harry set out to find something, _anything,_ to make life interesting.

Luckily, he didn't need to search very far. While he was senselessly wandering about, Harry noticed that there was a condense bundle of magic threads that looked not too different from his own system of magic threads. And if that wasn't enough, the system was moving! Something that intriguing took priority over everything else at that moment. Finally, something interesting!

It was difficult to follow the entity, whatever it was, through the labyrinth of streets in the town/city he was currently in. It was much bigger and therefore complex than most of the places he went. It was also in France. Harry was not very good at speaking French, so he couldn't ask for directions.

It took the better part of three hours, but Harry was finally right on the trail of... a little kid? The child looked younger than he was by at least a few years (and Harry was certainly not big for his age). It was impossible to discern their gender, since they were wearing a baggy brown coat with a hood that kind of looked like almost like a ragged cloak of some kind. This person was definitely the source of the threads, though.

Harry sped after the child at an impressive pace. The child, seeing that someone potentially dangerous was chasing them, responded in kind by racing along the narrow alleyway in an attempt to flee. The kid was very good, Harry admitted to himself. He would've lost them were it not for the fact that he could see the magic threads through solid objects.

In the end, Harry was older and bigger. He soon had the child cornered against a dead end. Harry paused. He hadn't thought about what he'd do now that the child wasn't running away from him. They were probably scared. He knew he'd be scared if some random older guy started chasing after him. He frowned. It hadn't been his intention to scare them.

He slowly walked over to them and lowered their hood. The kid didn't even so much as protest it. It revealed a dirty face with wide blue eyes and long blonde hair, obviously a girl. She looked about five years old.

She flinched away from Harry when he revealed her face. Her eyes held painful resigned, like she was anticipating that something horrible would happen. He decided to let her wait until she realized he wouldn't do anything to her. With the language barrier, it was likely that any move Harry made right then would only make things worse.

It took a few minutes for her to finally look up at him, and he had begun to feel impatient. Still, he was smiling when she finally did. In the couple minutes he'd had to think, he figured out what his next move would be. Harry used one of his spells to summon a sandwich from his pocket. It shot to his hand silently, but she didn't seem to notice. She wouldn't look him in the eyes either.

Slowly, he stretched his hand out to offer the sandwich to her. If there was one thing he'd learned from traveling around the world, it was that food was very good at delivering messages across cultures, since it was universal. Besides, based on the state of her clothing, she hadn't been living in a very stable environment, which meant it was likely she'd be hungry.

She eyed the sandwich warily, but otherwise didn't respond. Harry rolled his eyes at that. He gestured to the food and then to her, but she didn't seem to get the message. He used his other hand to lightly grasp her wrist. She flinched heavily at the contact. He ignored it as best he could and put the sandwich in her open hand and gently closed her fingers around it.

After that, he took a step back and waited. This time, it didn't take too long. She looked at the food in her hand with confusion etched onto her childish features. Harry sighed, having thought it would be easier to get the mystery girl to take his gift. Clearly, she had no idea what to do.

The girl looked down at his feet and stuttered something in French. Harry was surprised at how weak and delicate her voice sounded, like it was made of fragile pottery just waiting to be smashed into a rock. It was rather disconcerting to him.

He didn't understand what she said, but she seemed uncertain about it. Maybe she was asking for permission to eat the sandwich? Harry nodded at her encouragingly, hoping that was the case. Instead of placing the food in her mouth, she said something else in French, so Harry just nodded again.

She just seemed downright perplexed by that. Okay, so that one probably wasn't a yes or no question. How could he get this across? He opened his mouth and pointed at it with his finger in the universal sign of 'I'm hungry'. It wasn't the exact message he wanted to convey, but it might help her to understand.

Unfortunately, she misinterpreted his gesture and offered the sandwich back to him. Harry held his forehead in his hand and sighed again. Finally, he just grabbed the food and pressed lightly it against her mouth. It might have been a tad bit aggressive, but he was frustrated and out of ideas.

Finally, realization dawned on her, though she still looked confused. Even so, she actually ate the sandwich. 'Ate' would probably not be the right word, though. She practically inhaled it in just a couple seconds. So if she was that hungry, why was she so hesitant to eat?

Now that he had proved himself to not be an immediate threat, he would have to introduce himself. The problem was how. They couldn't understand each other.

"Harry." He spoke clearly while placing a hand over his heart. He hoped she understood.

"A-Aurore." She stuttered out in response, placing a hand over her own heart.

It was at this point that things started to get strange, and not in a good way. Several loud cracks sounded behind Harry, instantly drawing his attention as he whirled around. He was met with the sight of five figures completely hidden behind large black hooded cloaks where he was fairly certain there hadn't been five figures completely hidden behind large black hooded cloaks two seconds ago.

Another thing was that these five people also had a very complex and colorful system of threads in them too. Did they just teleport? He'd been trying to figure out how to do that for over a year and he hadn't even gotten close! Before Harry could continue his inner rant, the figures all took out... highly decorated sticks? One of the stick-things fired off a bolt of red light at him and it did _not_ look friendly.

As soon as the attack got within six inches of him, his protective barrier spell activated. Instead of giving it a word to trigger the spell, Harry designed it so that it would draw on his energy and activate itself whenever a hostile or potentially hostile projectile came within six inches of him. 'Hostile' and 'potentially hostile' were defined by his own mind.

The attacker seemed surprised that his spell (what else could it be?) was stopped by an invisible barrier, though it was hard to tell underneath that hood. Harry wasted no time in retaliating by sending a jolt of lightning powerful enough to knock a grown man out at the assailant with a whispered 'mollis fulgur' to activate the spell. The man (or woman) crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Any shock that the other figures had was now discarded as they all sent a barrage of multicolored spells at him. Clearly, they were not messing around. His shield spell came up, but the more he had to defend against, the more energy it required to maintain, and he was loosing energy at an alarming rate. He needed to finish this quickly.

"Fluctus!" Harry's desperation made him shout the spell's name. It was a basic spell that would only repel objects or people in front of him in a wave. It wasn't super powerful, but it distracted the four remaining enemies from their assault on his shield by knocking them off of their feet.

Harry quickly pressed his brief advantage and let out several dozen tiny spheres of white light with a cry of "stellarum!". The lights shot towards the downed figures and exploded in showers of sparks. It looked like two of the four were out of the fight for good, but the other two were already back on their feet and blocked his spell with a glowing blue defensive barrier. They resumed shooting spells at him with increased vigor.

This wasn't good. His shield was about to fail and he had no way to escape. His speed spell would do no good in such a narrow dead ended alleyway. Although it protected him from the harmful effects of his own super sonic speed, it would not protect him from slamming into a wall faster than the speed of sound.

Harry gritted his teeth in frustration. He was almost out of energy and his two opponents kept dodging his offensive spells or parrying them with those weird sticks. Was this how he was going to go? Falling to mysterious robed guys at the age of nine?

Just as Harry's shield began to flicker, he felt a small hand grasp his ankle from behind. He experienced the distinct sensation of falling before he hit the ground with a thud.

Harry blinked a few times as he took in his surroundings. Wherever he was, it certainly wasn't the same place he'd been a few seconds ago. It looked like some kind of fantasy paradise. He was sitting in a grassy meadow dotted with flowers. To his right and in front of him in a couple hundred meters laid a rich green forest. To his left, a wide, sparkling blue river snaked through the ground. Above him, sunlight streamed down comfortably as a few clouds shifted lazily in the otherwise empty sky.

His first thought was 'what?!'. He soon answered that with 'weird magic teleportation'. The next question was 'how?', which he did not have an answer for.

Hearing the grass rustle, Harry turned around and spotted the girl, Aurore, shakily rising to her feet. So she had come with him? Was it possible that it was _her_ who had teleported the both of them here? He definitely remembered a small hand grabbing his ankle back in the alley when he was being attacked. Had she somehow transported herself while dragging him along via physical contact? If only he could just ask her!

Looking around, Aurore didn't seem to recognize where they were either. With nothing to do, Harry spent some time exploring, while Aurore followed behind him cautiously.

There was nothing very interesting in the meadows or by the river, but the forest was a different story. It became more dense the farther in he walked, and he encountered many strange and impossible creatures inside. When he was attacked by a giant lizard and just barely managed to stay alive, he decided that it might be better to turn back.

Harry pondered about this strange place that he and his newfound companion had ended up in. It seemed like a paradise, but there was also that dangerous beast that had almost killed him. Wherever he was, it was certainly very interesting. 'Yes,' He mused. 'I could definitely stay here awhile.'


	3. The School Invitation

Chapter Three: The School Invitation

It had been a year since Harry had made a home in the strange land he found himself in. With the help of some magic, he had managed to build a log cabin where he and Aurore could stay in the forest. He had also set up a magic barrier not dissimilar to the one he'd seen around Mrs. Figg's house all those years ago. The code for the spell went something like this:

 **If** entity=/01/ or /02/

 **Then** terminate function

 **Else:**

( **If** distance of entity=500

 **Then** activate spell {SpericalWall})

Entity /01/ represented Harry and /02/ represented Aurore (directly referring to a very complex design of their magical energy signatures that was imported above the code). Basically, the spell meant that if anyone other than himself or Aurore tried to get within a certain distance of their home, the spell Spherical Wall would activate.

Spherical Wall was a spell kept on a different page of his notebook that was also imported above the code. It would create a spherical barrier that no entity could pass through, not even Harry or Aurore. It had to be casted on an object so that something could be the center of the sphere. It was possible to bypass the barrier with a spell specifically designed to avoid detection from his own spells (which was created by himself), but there was nothing he knew of in the forest that would be able to do that.

Another thing was that Aurore was able to use some English now. She wasn't very verbose whenever she spoke, but she could usually still make her point known. Harry used an English to French dictionary he had purchased to help with translating anything else.

He slowly learned more about her as she learned more English. She didn't know how old she was. All her life she had been living with 'bad mans' who were trying to use her for something. She was not used to being treated as an equal by anyone and it took a while for her to come out of her shell and learn to voice her thoughts.

Even now, she would flinch and shy away from human contact from anyone other than Harry on the rare occasions when he took her with him outside of the serene meadow and less serene forest they lived by. She would never be an assertive or dominant person, but hopefully she would be less compliant to the wills of others for fear of some nonexistent punishment.

Harry also learned that Aurore had magical abilities that could sometimes completely baffle him. He was shocked when she had procured a furnished chair out of nowhere or when she changed a rock into a living duck. The sheer complexity of the way her threads moved to do those things was enough to give him a headache.

While Harry's magic was a highly calculated science, Aurore's was more similar to what Harry had done before he learned to control his powers. Aurore's will and desire were the two factors that triggered her magic. With that and enough magical energy, she could do just about anything she could think of. It was amazing to watch.

Oftentimes, since there was little else to do, Harry and Aurore would go exploring into the forest for fun. There were all sorts of mysteries to uncover in there, but there were some dangerous and powerful creatures, so Harry had to create more powerful combat spells in order to ensure that he and his companion would remain safe.

There was one thing in particular that had Harry both excited and fearful. On one such trek through the magical thicket, Aurore stumbled upon a large hole in the ground made of mossy stone bricks. The bottom was about thirty feet below with an ancient looking spiral staircase leading down.

Naturally, the two of them began to carefully step forward down the hole. Thousands upon thousands of multicolored threads exploded into Harry's vision as soon as he stepped foot onto the stone. Somehow, this place was saturated in magic and yet it was hidden from his senses. Until he entered, that is.

At the bottom were four thick wooden doors atfour intersecting sides along the walls. When they cautiously strode through one of them, they were greeted by a huge fire-breathing dragon, and not in a very friendly manner. The beast had to have been over sixty feet long!

Harry and Aurore had only barely made it out alive. He promised her right when they got back to the house that neither of them would ever go there again without some extremely powerful magic on their side. This lead to Harry's project of creating magical weaponry. So far, it wasn't much though.

It was a while later when something interrupted Harry's peaceful life with Aurore. Harry's eleventh birthday was only two weeks away when something strange happened. The protective barrier around the little home he lived in became surrounded by owls.

It had started out small, just a couple owls flying near the invisible wall that stopped intruders from getting too close to his home. It was nothing unusual for a magic forest. But within the span of a few days, dozens of owls had accumulated just outside the defenses. Obviously, this was not normal, the question was whether it was benign or not.

Finally, he took one and allowed it into the cabin he and Aurore lived in, adding it as a temporary exception to the barrier's code. One of the first things Harry noticed was that there was a letter tied to one of its legs. As soon as he took the letter, the owl flew off out a window. Harry made a mental note to remove the owl from the code for the barrier later.

"It's rather strange, don't you think, Aurore?" Harry asked casually. "I wonder who would deliver a letter by owl. Of course, there's no postal system out here, but still..." He looked up when she didn't respond.

"N-non, ce sont eux!" Aurore exclaimed, slipping back into her mother tongue. She was shaking and her eyes were wide with fear. Harry hadn't seen her look like that in a _long_ time.

"Aurore, what's wrong?!" He implored worriedly.

"It's... them." She began, swallowing slowly. "The people I was with before I came with you gave letters to each other with these birds."

"I see..." Harry trailed off with a frown. "I suppose that means that I must use caution when responding." 'Caution' was an English word Aurore knew very well. Harry made sure to put lots of emphasis on it whenever they ventured out into the forest together.

Harry opened the letter slowly, mentally analyzing everything he could discern from it. The envelope was made of aged and yellow paper-like material and had a very odd wax seal keeping it tightly shut. It looked like something an archeologist would find and put in a museum.

The wax seal itself was very strange. It looked like a crest with four different parts separated into the corners. Each part had a picture of some kind of animal on it and the word _Hogwarts_ was displayed across it. Underneath that were latin words that Harry roughly translated to 'don't tickle a sleeping dragon'.

Harry cracked open the wax seal and cautiously took out the parchment -not paper- before unrolling it and clearing his throat. He then proceeded to read it aloud to Aurore.

"HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

 _(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

 _Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress"

Harry did indeed find a list of all necessary books and equipment, and what a strange list it was. Supposedly, there were gloves made of dragon hide. This had to be one of the strangest things that had ever happened to him, and that was saying something!

"What do you think, Aurore?" Harry asked finally. "Because I don't really know what to make of this."

"I don't know, Harry." She responded slowly. "I don't know about this 'Hogwarts'. The... people I was with before didn't ever mention it for me to be remembering."

Harry winced slightly at the grammar. Even after a couple years, Aurore wasn't exactly perfect with her English. It didn't matter at the moment though. There were more pressing matters.

"What would you do if this letter was addressed to you?" Harry changed the question.

"What _I_ would do is feed that letter to one of the beasts in our forest and then hope those people never give us another letter." She replied after a little hesitation. "This is because I simply do not trust those people at all. For you, it could be a great... a great... You could learn much at that place, but it might be dangerous." 'Dangerous' was another word that was often brought up when Harry was discussing the forest.

"I suppose that makes sense." Harry mused thoughtfully. "No matter what, I won't go if it means I would have to leave you alone for any length of time. There's also the fact that we have no way to 'owl' them back. Perhaps this will just blow over and never come up again."

"Thank you, Harry." Aurore whispered to him as she embraced him tightly.

As the days passed, it seemed unlikely that the Hogwarts situation would 'blow over'. Each day, more letters telling Harry that he was accepted to Hogwarts came. It was actually quite frustrating. It seemed as if they thought that he simply wasn't getting them just because he wasn't replying.

Finally, over a week after the first letter had arrived, something changed. Harry was quite surprised when he found a prim looking lady that had to at least have been in her mid to late fifties dressed in emerald green robes standing just outside the magical barrier surrounding his home when he was about to head out into the forest for some adventure. He could tell instantly from her threads that she could wield the same power as he and Aurore.

Harry told Aurore to come over before heading out. He needed to have her in his sight and reach since this was one of the people who could do things like Harry and Aurore could. That way, if the new magic-user tried something that somehow worked past his defenses, he would be able to high tail it out of there with her in tow.

The two of them strode out of the house holding hands and with very different expressions. Harry exuded an aura of determination and confidence, whereas Aurore's entire demeanor seemed to indicate uneasiness and more than a little fear.

"Good afternoon, stranger." Harry greeted casually, about two feet from the woman and well behind his protective magic.

"Good afternoon." She replied and seemed to grow even more stiff. "Would you happen to be Mr. Harry Potter?"

"Who's asking?" He avoided, not giving an inch. He wasn't going to give _any_ information without receiving some first.

"I am Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Professor of Transfiguration at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." She introduced with a slight frown. She appeared to disapprove of the way he spoke so colloquially with her. Probably used to being respected, then, especially if she was in a high position at this school. She would simply have to remain disappointed, though. He would offer no respect to a potential enemy he'd never met before, not until she proved she deserved it.

"I am Harry Potter." Harry reciprocated. "And this is my companion, Emily Grantz." Here he gestured to Aurore. It was a fake name he'd come up with on the spot.

"I see." Minerva McGonagall responded slowly. "A pleasure to meet you both."

"Likewise." He replied tersely.

"I am here to investigate your lack of response to the letter that was sent to you, assuming that it was received, of course." She announced.

"It was received." Harry spoke carefully. "However, your letter stated that you 'await my owl'. This was a problem because I simply don't have an owl for you to await. No other form of communication was specified in the letter. It was actually quite irritating to be continuously bombarded with letter after letter without any way to reply. Clearly it never occurred to you that perhaps the problem was _not_ that I wasn't reading them."

"My apologies, Mr. Potter." She replied a bit embarrassedly. "Headmaster Dumbledore believed that your lack of response was due to you not reading the letter. In fact, he seemed certain of it."

"Well, I'm sure you'll be happy to report to Headmaster Dumbledore that this was not the problem." Harry said with a fake smile. "On another note, I have some questions about the school I would like to ask you."

"Of course, Mr. Potter." She accepted. "My main purpose in coming here _is_ to inform you about Hogwarts."

"Alright then, let's start with this: what exactly does the Hogwarts curriculum entail?" He inquired.

"For first years, the curriculum includes Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Astronomy, and History of Magic. Starting in third year, elective courses including Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Care of Magical Creatures, and Divination can be taken as well." She explained patiently. "Are there perhaps any adults in your house who should be included in this conversation?"

"No." Harry answered flatly. "You say that I have been accepted into this school of witchcraft and wizardry and the curriculum you described seems to indicate that you have at least some system of categorizing your magic. But answer me this: why should I go to your school to learn magic when I am already able to use my own kind of magic, and when I am perfectly content to live here in peace with my companion, Emily?"

"You say you can perform your own kind of magic?" The deputy headmistress inquired skeptically.

"The barrier stopping you from stepping any closer to my home should be proof of that." Harry affirmed.

"You created these wards yourself?" She asked in disbelief.

"Yes." He answered simply. "It was rather easy, actually. Once I had a viable power source, it was a simple matter to design an enchantment on our house such that when any unknown or hostile beings come within a certain distance of it, they will find themselves unable to come any closer."

"'Our' house?" She questioned.

"Mine and Emily's." He clarified.

"I see." She responded with pursed lips. "I suppose the only motivation I can offer you would be the chance to learn and explore new branches of magic, and to walk the same halls that your parents did when they were your age."

"Is that so?" Harry asked rhetorically. "Very well, I'll tell you this: I am not opposed to learning at your school, but so far my only experiences with any magical people outside of Emily has been when they are trying to attack and possibly kill me. If I am to attend Hogwarts, I will need to be able to see and be with Emily daily and for more than a few minutes at a time to insure her wellbeing and safety, aside from the fact that I am the only person in the world that she trusts to any degree. This is absolutely nonnegotiable."

"I would have to speak with the Headmaster about your... demands." She seemed very indignant that he would dare to have conditions. Tough.

"Of course, take all the time you need. I'll expect you to return in some time with a response. Goodbye." Harry dismissed before heading back to his house with Aurore still clutching his hand.

"Are you sure about this, Harry?" Aurore asked uncertainly once they were inside and seated on a couch.

"I am." He replied firmly. "If they try to force me into going... well, I think I've had a breakthrough in designing my magical weaponry. It could use some testing." She giggled a little at that, which brought a smile to Harry's lips. "If they somehow break through the protections around our home, we will simply flee to somewhere else and design better protections. Speaking of which, we might want to start adding some more protections to our house now, just in case."

"I love you, Harry." She stated with conviction and seemingly out of nowhere.

"I love you too, Aurore." He responded without hesitation. "I promise you that I will do everything I possibly can so that no one ever hurts you again. I promise." With that, the two of them just stayed close together, enjoying each other's company. It was easy to forget everything else in the other's presence. If there was one thing Harry was certain of, it was that he would not let anyone or anything get in the way of her safety. He would protect Aurore no matter what. He'd never had a little sister before, you see.

(A/N): so Here's the third chapter uploaded about three minutes after the second chapter. I'm just so fast at writing these, aren't I? Now, you're probably thinking 'this guy just wrote three chapters in about a week and then posted them all on the same day.' This is completely false. I assure you it took me at least two weeks to write all of this.


	4. So Magic Trains

Chapter Four: So… Magic Trains…

Over the next few days, Harry spent lots of time on creating more extensive defenses to his home; 'wards' the professor had called them. Now, if someone unwelcome somehow made it past the Spherical Wall, they would receive a rather nasty electrical shock among other offensive spells. Needless to say, if someone tried to force their way in, it would be most unpleasant and possibly lethal to them.

Aurore had practically been a nervous wreck ever since the Hogwarts professor had come. She was constantly having breakdowns about what could happen if the two of them were always surrounded by the same kind of people who had hurt her before. Harry hoped that this wouldn't last for very long, if it did, he was going to have to do something about it (if only he knew what).

Harry himself was also pretty stressed about what could happen. Sure, it was an unprecedented learning opportunity, but it who knows what kind of trouble an entire school full of magic-wielding teenagers could cook up? Still, He had been trying to learn the secrets of the mysterious energy he called magic ever since he'd discovered it, and now an entire society full of archived information about it was practically handed to him on a silver platter.

Finally, the response came nine days later in the form of an old man, instead of an old woman this time. The thing about the man was that it appeared that the concept of 'inconspicuous' what absent from him. With a silvery beard so long it was tucked into his belt and adorned in bright blue robes, he would stand out like a sore thumb just about anywhere. Again, Harry could immediately tell from his threads that this man was also a user of magic when he saw him in the morning.

And yet again, Harry strode out confidently with Aurore next to him, in case they needed to make a beeline to get away. There were several distinct differences this time though in comparison to when he met Professor McGonagall. Firstly, Aurore was hidden under an invisibility spell that he'd created months ago, but had forgotten about when the deputy headmistress showed up unexpectedly. The second was that he was much more confident that his defenses would hold with his new additions.

"Hello, Harry Potter." Gandalf-Beard greeted in a mysterious I-am-all-knowing voice. Harry hoped the entire conversation wouldn't consist of that voice or he would get a headache quickly.

"Hello… person." Harry returned awkwardly.

"Ah, my apologies, I am Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." He introduced with a look of slight embarrassment. Unfortunately, he was still using that same tone. Somehow he managed to make his embarrassment sound condescending.

"The headmaster? Surely you'd have much more important matters to attend to than to visit little ole' me?" Harry inquired good-naturedly. They both knew that it was a far more probing question than it sounded. Harry was essentially accusing him of plotting something because Dumbledore taking such an unnecessary interest in him.

"Professor McGonagall informed me that you had certain conditions that you were reluctant to attend Hogwarts without. This is a rather unusual occurrence, so I saw no reason why not to come myself." He explained. Harry thought that was an unlikely impetus for the head honcho himself to come, but still considered that it might be the truth.

"I see. Perhaps you'd like me to explain my reasoning?" Harry requested.

"Of course, feel free to speak your mind." Dumbledore accepted breezily.

"Very well then," Harry took a deep breath. "My first and primary concern is in regard to my friend, Emily Grantz. I am unwilling to leave her here alone for most of the year and she is unwilling to stay with anyone other than myself. You can see why this would be a problem."

"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed gravely. "Your loyalty to your friend is admirable, Harry. However, the fact is that first-years students begin at the age of eleven and seventh-year students begin at the age of seventeen. If Miss Grantz is above or below those ages, she cannot be a student."

"She is less than eleven years old." Harry muttered, but still loud enough for Dumbledore to hear. "You say that she can't become a student until she reaches the age of eleven, but are there any other ways she could come to Hogwarts as well? Without being a student, I mean."

"Hmmm, I'm sure that your friend would not be accepted as a pet, and I doubt that either of you would appreciate the implications _that_ would bring up. I also doubt that she could become a teacher given her age and her seeming shyness. I suppose if young Miss Grantz was an apprentice to someone in Hogwarts that she would be able to come. However, the likelihood of that is nearly nonexistent and even if it weren't, she would have to stay with the one she was apprenticed to." Dumbledore explained regretfully.

"Hmm, an apprentice" Harry mused, not dissuaded in the slightest by the professor's dismissal of that option. "Would there be anything to stop Emily from being apprenticed to me?"

"I'm sorry, Harry." The headmaster apologized. "In order to take on an apprentice, one must first become a master in a magical art. The requirements vary for different subjects, but it always takes years of diligent study and practice without fail."

"But Headmaster, I'm already a master of a magical art." Harry protested calmly as a grin began to settle on his face despite the steadiness of his tone. "In fact, I am the best person in the world at this art. I call it 'Magic Programming'. Simply put, I have found a way to harness the ambient magical energy of the world and interact with it using a special interface. By writing complex instructions with this interface, I can create and execute my own spells."

"Truly?" Dumbledore asked in surprise, though Harry couldn't tell whether it was genuine or not. "Perhaps you could indulge an old man and give a demonstration. I'll need to have some proof that you are, as you say, a master of this 'Magical Programming'."

Harry nearly cursed out loud at that. Dumbledore had managed to trap him into a situation where he would be forced to reveal many of his cards in order for his condition to be met. If he refused to show his power, then it was likely that Dumbledore wouldn't accept Harry as a master. The only question Harry had about it was if he had planned it from the start or not.

"Of course, I'd be happy to." Harry lied cheerfully while inwardly raging. "The barrier that prevents you from coming any closer to my home is a product of my Magic Programming."

"You erected these wards? That's very impressive for a child your age, Harry." The professor praised.

"There is much more to Magic Programming than making invisible walls, though. For example, this is one of my basic combat spells: _fluctus_." Harry incanted and pointed his arm to the left, palm out. A wave of force was expelled from his hand and crashed into a tree with a loud crack, splitting the tree nearly in two.

Dumbledore just raised an eyebrow and gestured for Harry to continue, the pretentious old man.

"A lot of the spells I use are for everyday use as opposed to combat against a foe." Harry continued and then began to casually levitate several rocks and twigs and cause them to float around him lazily. This spell didn't have a word or phrase to trigger it. It would be pointless since he would still have to concentrate on the trajectory of whatever he was levitating. He had some worded spells that could lift something directly up or force it directly down, but not for a spell that was this flexible.

"I see." Professor Dumbledore articulated. "Well, Harry, you have proven, at least to me, that you are deserving of the title master in your Magic Programming. Miss Grantz will come with you to Hogwarts as your apprentice and when you are sorted into your house, the two of you will stay in a separate dorm room. Perhaps now would be a good time for you to go shopping for school supplies?"

"Yes, of course." Harry agreed. "I'm afraid that I wouldn't know how to go about doing that."

"Ah, I had forgotten that you were not raised around witches and wizards. I have some business that demands my attention about right now. But fret not; I will make sure that one of the other Professors will arrive to guide you shortly." The headmaster assured. "Now, I shall take my leave. Farewell, Harry Potter and you too, my dear." He added the last part with a glance to where Aurore was hidden to Harry's right, and then disappeared with a loud pop.

 _Damn it, he knows!_ Harry mentally seethed. He calmed himself soon after, though. There was no use in staying angry over something that was already over. Nobody was hurt, so Harry would just have to take this as a lesson that Dumbledore would be able to detect someone under his invisibility spell. It would be useful knowledge for the future, Harry was sure

The rest of the day was very eventful, quite possibly one of the most eventful days of his life. It had all started when the Hogwarts professor that Dumbledore promised arrived some thirty minutes after he'd left. She introduced herself as Professor Sprout, the professor for herbology. Harry decided not to comment on the irony of that.

Their first stop had been 'The Leaky Cauldron', a dingy pub that apparently also doubled as a secret entrance to wizard shopping areas. It was there that he learned that he was famous. His plans to not draw unneeded attention to himself were thoroughly demolished when he learned _that_ little bit of information. Supposedly, he had single handedly defeated the most powerful dark lord of the age (some bloke named Voldemort, though with that name, it was no wonder he turned evil) before he even knew how to talk, receiving nothing but the lightning bolt scar on his forehead from the incident. Honestly, the things some people believe.

After that, Harry was introduced to Diagon Alley, the go to place for all wizarding essentials. It was certainly a very unique place and he was almost blinded by the sheer number of magical threads. They were everywhere! From entering, the two headed directly to Gringotts Bank, where Harry learned that he would not likely find himself in need of money any time soon.

From there it was a systematic sequence of trips for potions supplies, books, a telescope, some 'proper' robes, and then finally a wand. The wand bit was particularly interesting.

Another fascinating fact about wizards and witches (as the local magic-users referred to themselves as) was that in order do just about any kind of magic, you needed to wave around a special twig, unless you were unusually powerful. Personally, Harry thought that the entire idea was ridiculous. What kind of self respecting person would go through their life while knowing they can be rendered powerless if they lose a fragile wooden stick? Still, wizards had been doing it since before the dawn of the Roman Empire if the sign on the wand shop was to be believed, so there had to be some purpose in it, right?

The shopkeeper was called Mr. Ollivander, and he was a man that pulled off 'mysterious-old-man' much better than Dumbledore in Harry's opinion. He kept Harry there for hours trying out new wands and then snatching them back after nothing happened or something exploded. Those seemed to be the only two responses his wands had gotten so far.

Finally, some sparks shot out of a wand made of holly and with a core of phoenix feather. Ollivander then proceeded to tell harry that the phoenix whose tail feather was in his wand also gave the tail feather that became the core to the wand of Voldemort, the dark lord he supposedly vanquished as a baby. As if learning he was famous for it wasn't enough?

After that, Professor Sprout handed Harry a ticket and told him it would be the only way to get to Hogwarts, and then teleported herself and Harry back outside his wards before vanishing with a pop. Yes, it was certainly a most eventful day.

When Harry entered the house, it was to the sight of Aurore rushing towards him. It took him a couple seconds for it to register that there was something being launched at him and by that time, he had already been nearly tackled to the ground in a squeezing embrace. For such a tiny girl, she sure had a lot of strength in her.

"Harry, you're back!" She cried.

"Ooof" Came his eloquent reply. "Yep, I'm back." He wheezed out.

"S-sorry!" Aurore apologized hastily, letting go of him.

"You seem extraordinarily excited to see me back." Harry commented. "Whenever I come back from exploring in the woods, you usually just say hi."

"Well, I was a bit, um; it's just, you see, I was a little worried you wouldn't come back after you left with _them_. They could have taken you and hurt you and- and…" Aurore trailed off as she struggled to find the right words.

"It's alright, I understand." Harry soothed. "I'm not gonna get captured, I promise."

"I- I think I knew that already, it was just so scary thinking about how you were gone with the magic-users." She confessed.

"Well, it doesn't matter anymore." He declared. "From now on, you're going to be my apprentice programmer, and we'll be staying together at Hogwarts."

"Yeah," She agreed with an affirmative nod.

"And don't tell anyone," He lowered his voice into a dramatic whisper. "But I think there's this little girl that's going to be attending. Her name's Aurore and if we're not careful, she might outshine the both of us, yeah?"

Aurore smiled up at him and nodded, wiping away her tears.

The method of transportation the two of them were supposed to take to the magic school was a train. They had their own magic platform for their own magic train to take them to a magic school. The people who could teleport and possibly create portals (Harry couldn't tell exactly what the barrier between platforms nine and ten were, only that there were a crap load of threads involved) decided to use a train to mass-deliver all of the students.

Honestly, sometimes Harry wanted to just bang his head against a wall at the sheer inefficiency that the wizards seemed to practice religiously. Aurore on the other hand thought that it would be adventurous to go on the train, but perhaps that was just because she was trying to reassure herself. There would be an awful lot of people aboard, after all.

The train ride itself was rather uninteresting. The only things of note were when a first year girl that was new to magic had come into their compartment and introduced herself as Hermione Granger. Aurore was nervous around her, but was somewhat mollified by the fact that Hermione was even more new to wizarding society than they were.

The other thing was when a pretentious blonde boy barged into the compartment demanding for Harry to show himself if he was there. Harry had politely (though not kindly) told him to leave. He was making Aurore frightened since he reminded her so much of the people she knew as a very young child (or at least that's what Harry thought was why she looked so scared of the boy).

The boy had sneered at him, probably insulted by everyone's lack of groveling at his feet or some such similar reason. Harry had met these kinds of people before. He had announced that his name was Draco Malfoy as if that should awe them. Needless to say, they were not impressed. All Harry had to do was take out his wand and Malfoy paled and practically flew out of the compartment.

For the rest of the train ride, it was just silence and reading, with some small talk scattered here and there. Eventually, after several hours, the train finally arrived at its destination. When Harry and Aurore walked out, they heard an impossibly large man shouting for all the first years to come to him and get into boats. First trains and now boats; next they were going to reveal magic helicopters, Harry was convinced.

The two of them got onto the same boat, but nobody joined them. Whether it was because of coincidence or because no one wanted to sit in the same boat as Aurore, who was obviously several years younger than all of them, Harry couldn't tell.

As the boats started floating forward from some spell Harry noticed a thin wall of magic threads that seemed to never end. He guessed that it was a ward of some kind, protecting the school property from any outside threats. As soon as he passed through it, _millions_ of bright magic threads burst into view all around him. Harry watched in awe of all the complex threads that everything here seemed to be saturated with. He almost didn't notice the emergence of a giant castle, he was so distracted. Almost.

Was this supposed to be their school? It must've been able to easily fit a hundred of the old school he used to go to and no one would notice the difference. It was just so _huge!_ Harry was practically dizzy from the combination of all the magic threads and the revelation of that _giant_ castle.

There was only one thought going through Harry's head as he put an arm around Aurore's shoulder: _Things just got a hell of a lot more interesting…_


	5. Of Singing Hats and Inquisitive Door

Chapter Five: Of Singing Hats and Inquisitive Door Knockers

"Welcome to Hogwarts." Professor McGonagall's voice rang out. "Now, in a few moments, you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. But before you can take your seats you must be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Now, while you are here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you house points. Any rule breaking and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup"

Harry nodded along with some other first year students in the crowd they formed. Personally, Harry didn't care much about prestige, which was what he gathered was the only reward that winning the house cup brought. His primary goal was to glean information from his stay at Hogwarts, whether allowed by the rules or not. Truly, he was a scientist at heart.

"The sorting ceremony will begin momentarily." McGonagall concluded. Before she left, the deputy headmistress approached Harry and softly directed into his ear, "When you are called up for your sorting, bring Miss Grantz up as well. She will stand beside you and go with you to your table."

Harry nodded in understanding and then turned around after Professor McGonagall left, his attention now drawn towards a small squabble between two students which was rapidly escalating.

"Do not speak to me like that, you worthless blood traitor!" A voice demanded hotly. "I am Draco Malfoy, the scion of House Malfoy and a _respectable_ pureblood. You should know your place!" It was that blonde boy he'd had the misfortune to meet on the train.

"At least none of _my_ family ever worked for you-know-who, Malfoy!" A redheaded boy retorted heatedly.

"Is there a problem here?" Harry cut in, striding toward the two.

"The problem is that this- this bloody git is insulting my family." The redhead boy ground out at Harry, clearly still agitated.

"This doesn't concern you, half blood." Malfoy spat. "We don't need any _interference."_

 _"_ Actually, I rather think it's the concern of every person here who has to be bothered and have their eardrums torn to shreds from your irritating yelling match." Harry returned with hostility in his voice. He was not about to sympathize with the dumb prick who so arrogantly demanded so much of the world.

"Do you even know who I am?!" Malfoy hissed.

"Obviously," Harry replied with an eye roll. "I'd be surprised if the entire school didn't know from all of your shrieking about it. I simply don't care."

"Why you little-" Malfoy was cut off when Harry continued as if he hadn't heard him.

"Now, the both of you have two options right now: One is to stop this argument right now. It doesn't seem to be getting anywhere and I'm sure none of us want to constantly deal with your loudly voiced opinions of each other for the rest of the year. The other option is to continue the argument and watch as nobody wants anything to do with you because of your constant squabbling." Harry stated matter-of-factly. "Choose wisely."

Malfoy took to silently fuming and the redhead seemed to have calmed down a bit, though not completely. Harry frowned slightly. It probably wasn't a smart idea to be making enemies already, especially if they were as important as the blonde idiot claimed. There was nothing to be done about it now, though; he would have to just deal with it.

Harry suddenly became very alert when a scream of terror sliced through the air, ready to face any threat with a spell on the tip of his tongue. He should've known this place wouldn't be safe. But then the cause for the scream became apparent. There were ghosts casually floating down the hall towards the group of first years. They didn't seem to pay any attention to them so he ignored them as best he could.

There was something very strange about the ghosts. They had a system of magic threads much like all magic-users, but it was completely a light blue and grayish color. It was almost like a wizard had his magic thread system infected with something that converted all the threads to a new color, interesting.

"What are you all doing out here?" One of the ghosts asked in surprise.

"W-well, we're waiting to get sorted here." A brave first year spoke up.

"Ah, new students," The ghost nodded in understanding. "Welcome to Hogwarts, then! Hope you get into Hufflepuff. It was my old house, you know." With that, the ghosts turned their attention back to their conversation and glided away.

"Ahem." The sound of someone clearing their throat drew all the first years' attention to where Professor McGonagall was now standing. "The sorting ceremony will now proceed."

The professor turned around towards the set of large wooden doors they had been waiting just outside of and they opened seemingly by magic. Beyond the doors was a huge room. There were four long rectangular tables that were laid in rows and a smaller table at the front where it looked like all the staff sat.

The most interesting feature of the place was by far was the ceiling. It looked as if the walls simply faded into a cloudy night sky that grew clear and starry farther away from the walls. Harry heard Hermione, the girl he'd met on the train explain to someone that the ceiling was just bewitched to look like the sky. He could've probably guessed that on his own, though.

In front of the tables was an old wooden stool and on top of that, a mangy old hat. It looked as if someone had used it as a punching bag for the last several centuries. Harry could see a lot (really, _really_ a lot) of magic threads in the hat though, so he wondered what its purpose might be. He was not expecting it to grow a mouth and sing.

He was so surprised about the fact that a _hat_ was singing that he didn't really pay attention to the words until it finished off with "for I'm a thinking cap!" If he thought wizards were strange before, he definitely thought so now. Even so, he could see why something like a sentient piece of cloth might be useful.

"All right, will you wait along here, please? Now, before we begin, Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words." McGonagall announced.

"I have a few start-of-term notices I wish to announce." Dumbledore began, and Harry got the feeling that there was going to be a long speech. "The first years please note that the dark forest is strictly forbidden to all students. Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you that the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death. Thank you."

Harry blinked in surprise. Was the headmaster serious about dying? He thought so, but couldn't be sure. That didn't seem like the kind of humor most children would appreciate. Harry would have to investigate this matter. Potentially deadly or not, Harry would risk entering the place if it meant gaining information. He would not remain ignorant about a threat that might be very dangerous to both himself and Aurore.

"When I call your name, you will come forth, I shall place the sorting hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses." Professor McGonagall addressed.

Abott, Hanah!" She called. A young brunette girl nervously walked over and sat on the stool. The hat was lowered onto her head. After about ten seconds the hat cried out "HUFFLEPUFF!" What a peculiar way to determine where someone will stay for the better part of seven years. Then again, wizards were nothing if not peculiar.

Each student was called up systematically and then had the sorting hat placed upon their heads. After ten to twenty seconds, the sorting hat would exclaim the name of the house which they would go to. After Padma and Parvati Patil, it was Harry's turn.

"Potter, Harry!" McGonagall called. Hushed voices broke out all around. Harry strode forward with a curious expression and with little Aurore to his right. The whispers became louder and more numerous at her unexpected presence by his side. Doubtlessly, there would be dozens of rumors about her by tomorrow morning.

Aurore shifted uneasily at all the attention and didn't seem any less nervous when the hat was placed atop him. Harry felt something tickle in his mind before a voice spoke to him.

"Oh, How interesting..." Harry recognized it as the same voice that sang the song. This was the hat speaking to him. "You've certainly lived an interesting life. Running away from home to explore the world and develop your own magic, I can certainly say I've never had to sort someone quite like you before."

"Nice to know that I'm so special." Harry murmured dryly.

"Now, now, no need for that." The hat admonished lightly. "I can hear you perfectly well inside your head."

 _What does he mean 'inside my head'?_ Harry wondered to himself. He was about to ask when the hat started to talk again.

"What I mean is that I can hear your thoughts." The hat explained. "You don't need to speak out loud and nobody else can hear me except for you, so it would look rather strange to everyone else if you just started talking to something they can't hear."

 _Oh, I see._ Harry blinked in surprise.

"Now, on with the sorting," The hat continued. "You came here for the purpose of seeking knowledge, a very Ravenclaw trait. However, although you enjoy the search for knowledge and the reward it brings, you also plan to use that knowledge for your own purposes, and you're also exceptionally talented for your age when it comes to cunning and you have a somewhat cynical view of the world. That is very Slytherin of you."

 _And..._ Harry prompted.

"Well, you are very loyal to your young friend, but you generally aren't trustful of others. Hufflepuff wouldn't be the right house for you. However, you are very brave when it comes to protecting your friend. You do not hesitate to make sure that she is safe." The hat kept going. "Gryffindor would fit you just fine."

 _So which house will you place me in?_ Harry asked impatiently. He already knew all of these things. They were about _him_ , after all.

"I suppose it really comes down to your decision." The sorting hat admitted a little embarrassedly. "The first year's opinion only factors into the decision, but you are so evenly matched among three houses that your choice will be the deciding factor that tips the scales."

 _I see. In that case, I choose Ravenclaw._ Harry decided. _Everyone expects me to get into Gryffindor and become the 'hero of the light' or some such thing. It will attract far too much people to me. If I go into Slytherin, everyone will think I've turned evil and plan to become the next dark lord. That would bring even more attention and much less benign attention too. Ravenclaw would be the ideal place for me to gather information which, as you said, is my main purpose in coming here._

"Very well, you didn't need to explain your choice, but it is appreciated nonetheless." The hat replied. "RAVENCLAW!" The last word was shouted out loud; Harry could tell because it nearly ripped apart his eardrums.

There was a brief moment of silence before Dumbledore started clapping his hands. It didn't take long for everyone else to follow. There was particular enthusiasm coming from the Ravenclaw table. Aurore and Harry took their seats next to each other.

"...Robins, Demelza!" Professor McGonagall called out, after the clapping had ceased.

Harry watched as the last first year, Blaise Zabini, was sorted into Slytherin. The sorting ceremony was finally over after about an hour and a half. He was sure that everyone was hungry at this point.

Dumbledore rose from his throne-like seat and proclaimed, "Let the feast begin!"

Instantly, all the plates were replete with food of every imaginable variety. Harry hadn't seen such an abundance of food since he'd secured his own supply of edibles inside the underground stone vault. There were some threads that twisted around when the food came; some magic was undoubtedly involved. Damn it, he still couldn't figure out teleportation magic and wizards used it just to send out food!

There was very little talking at first, because everyone was focused on their food, but as the minutes passed, voices multiplied throughout the hall. It was only ten minutes before Harry found himself bombarded with questions from all sides.

"Alright, enough!" Harry shouted, his patience expended. "I am going to offer everyone a little information about myself. After this, all questions you want to ask me about myself will simply have to wait for another time."

The other Ravenclaws all nodded in acceptance, most of them looking abashed. Good, they _should_ be embarrassed.

"Now, let's begin. I am, as you all obviously know, Harry Potter." He introduced redundantly. "Where I live and where I have lived is private information that I hold as a rather precious secret. I have no recollection of the night when my parents were brutally slaughtered by a megalomaniac, but thanks for bringing that topic up anyways. The wonderful lady you see to my right is Aurore. She is not yet old enough to attend Hogwarts as a student, but she has come along with me as my apprentice. She's very shy, so don't pester her with any questions either. Also, no, we are not in any kind of romantic relationship. That is all."

Harry returned to eating as his fellow Ravenclaws silently processed all the information. Some of them were even taking notes! Then Harry froze mid-chew as he realized something. He'd said 'Aurore' and not 'Emily Grantz'. Her cover name had just been obliterated by his introduction. It took an effort for Harry not to bang his head onto the table at his slip up. Repeatedly.

After the feast, everyone returned to their dormitories and the group of first years were lead by a prefect. In Ravenclaw's case, the prefect was Penelope Clearwater, a fifth year. She seemed like a rather easygoing person, so Harry didn't think he'd need to watch himself so much around her.

It took several hallways, quite a few hidden doors, and a large spiral staircase to get to the door outside Ravenclaw tower. Obviously, Penelope was well versed in traversing her way through the discombobulating walls of the school.

When they did get there, the bronze eagle-shaped knocker asked a question. After the sorting hat, Harry honestly wasn't that surprised by it.

"What breaks as you speak its name?" The knocker inquired.

"Silence" Penelope answered uninterestedly.

"Indeed." The knocker agreed and the door swung open with a whoosh.

The inside of the tower was circular. The expanse of the floors was covered in tables, chairs, and bookcases, though it was not cluttered or crowded. Blue and bronze silks gracefully decorated the walls and several ornate arched windows adorned them. The dome shaped ceiling was painted with stars that were reflected on the midnight-blue carpet. Opposite the entrance to the tower were two other doors with a marble statue of a regal looking woman standing between them.

"Now first off, I'd like to welcome you all to the house of Ravenclaw." Penelope Clearwater began. "The first thing you may have noticed was that in order to enter the common room, you'll have to answer a riddle. The riddles vary in difficulty, but they shouldn't be too hard since you're still first years. Though you should know that sometimes the knocker can get stubborn.

Continuing on, Ravenclaw house is supposed to represent the qualities: intelligence, wit, wisdom, creativity, originality, individuality, and acceptance. You were sorted here because each of you contains one or more of these characteristics. Unlike some of the other houses, we encourage you all to come up with new and inventive ways to use the magic that you are taught, or to study areas of magic that most people don't consider... essential.

Ravenclaw tower, as you can see here, has its own supply of books. It is absolutely imperative that these books _remain_ in Ravenclaw tower. Most of them are one of a kind, so losing it somewhere in the castle means that it most likely cannot be replaced and there is no tragedy greater than the loss of knowledge.

The boys' dormitories are in the door to the right. The girls' are to the left. Each set has its own bathroom. Curfew is at nine o'clock at night, with the exception of the days when you have astronomy. Lights out is at ten. Breakfast starts at seven thirty, so make sure you wake up with enough time to get there. Now then, off to your beds." She dismissed them. "Except for Harry Potter and his apprentice, the rest of you may leave."

The students left through their respective doors, all wondering why Harry Potter wasn't coming with them. Was it because he was the Boy-Who-Lived? And why was that girl, his supposed apprentice with him too? But they were all tired, so they didn't think too much of it.

"Now Harry, Headmaster Dumbledore has told all the prefects that you will be sleeping in a different dormitory from everyone else due to your unique circumstances with your apprentice." The prefect said after the three of them were alone in the room. "The entrance to your room is hidden behind the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw. In order to enter, you need to speak the password. For now, the password is just 'Ravenclaw Suite', but you can change it at your disclosure.

Your apprentice, I believe you said her name was Aurore? Aurore is allowed to attend classes alongside you, though she will not be required to do any homework and will receive no grades from the Hogwarts teachers. Classes for her are not mandatory; she can stay in Ravenclaw tower to work on anything you assign her as her master. Additionally, although Aurore is your responsibility, don't feel as if you are unable to contact any teachers or prefects for help regarding her. Do you have any questions?"

"Not at the moment, no." Harry replied, stifling a yawn.

"Very well, if that's all, then I'm going to head off to bed as well." Penelope declared before heading off to the girls' dormitories.

"Alright then, Aurore, I suppose it's time to head to bed now ourselves." Harry said, striding over to the statue between the doors to the dormitories.

"Yes, I suppose." Aurore agreed faintly. She must've been relieved that there weren't other people around now. Harry was proud that she'd toughed it out so far.

"Ravenclaw Suite" Harry announced to the statue. It turned its head and looked down at Harry for a few seconds and then moved aside, revealing a staircase descending downwards. The master and apprentice both headed down the stairs, the statue moving back into place behind them. It continued for about twenty steps before opening into their 'suite'.

The room was also decorated in blue and bronze, though it lacked some of the grace of the common room and was rectangular. There were a few tables and chairs spread out along one wall with some empty bookshelves hanging above them. Their trunks and personal belongings were stacked neatly in a corner.

The other wall showed plain stone bricks with three doors spaced out evenly. Some exploration revealed that the door to the far left was a nicely sized bathroom and the door to the far right contained two very comfortable looking beds with curtains to block out the light, which was fortunate because Harry had no idea where the light was coming from or how to turn it off. The middle door just revealed a spacious empty room, but Harry could see many, many magic threads permeating the place, and so didn't dismiss it as unimportant.

Aurore didn't take long to curl up in one of the beds and drape the curtains around it, but Harry wasn't very tired at the moment.

"You should try to get as much sleep as you can, Aurore, but I don't think I could sleep right now." Harry told her. "I'm going to go do some work on the Excalibur Project, so I'll be in the other room."

A muffled 'mhmkay' was his only response. Harry walked out and got to work, but his mind was focused on what tomorrow would bring. He had a feeling that it was going to be a very memorable day. He didn't know why, but somehow that thought didn't reassure him at all.

 **(A/N): Chapter Five is finally up. Now, we can get to the real plot of the story. Hooray!**

 **What exactly is it that's going to happen tomorrow with Harry? And what is the mysterious 'Excalibur Project'? Stay tuned, next time on Harry Potter, Magic Programmer!**


	6. Classes Begin!

Chapter Six: Classes Begin!

"Aurore, wake up. Aurore!" Harry shook her awake with a bit more force then he'd intended.

"Harry!" She gasped as she shot up in her bed.

"Don't worry, Aurore. It was just a dream." Harry assured her, sighing in relief.

"A... dream?" She wondered confusedly.

"Yes, you were rolling around and sweating a lot in your sleep. You looked like you were in pain." Harry explained. "It's all over now though, so don't worry."

"I don't remember any dream." Aurore said uncertainly. "I was just sleeping and then you were waking me up."

"Really?" Harry was surprised. "That's strange. You usually remember your... unpleasant dreams. Still, it's not a bad thing. I suppose it's actually rather fortunate. Now you won't need to be reminded so much of _that_."

"Yeah" She agreed simply, still only half awake.

"Well, since that's over, there's something else we need to discuss." Harry redirected away from the painful topic. "My first day of classes is going to be today. You're allowed to come with me to class and this is the day where the introduction to each topic is going to be given. I could just relay the most important information to you afterwards, but I think it would be better if you were there to learn it firsthand. What do you think?"

"I don't know, Harry." Aurore replied uneasily. "You know I don't like to be with people, but I want to learn this magic. Ever since we met, you're always protecting me. I want to be able to protect you also!"

Harry was taken aback by her loud declaration- that she wanted to protect him. There was so much determination in her little voice. He was reminded slightly of himself when he was her age. He had filled himself with resolve to escape the Dursleys and explore the world. Now that same kind of resolve was staring right back at him through bright blue eyes.

"You're stronger than you think, Aurore." He said finally. "If you don't want to come to class, I'm not going to make you. I doubt that we're going to just come out of class with the ability to turn tables into cushions. You will need to overcome your fear of other people eventually though. Personally, I think it'll only get worse if you keep waiting, but I won't force you. I'm too soft for that."

"I know. I see it in you every day." She responded, cracking a small smile. "I'll come with you. I need to eat breakfast in the Hall with everyone else, so I'd be around a lot of people anyways."

"Alright then! Breakfast starts pretty soon, so we'd better get a move on!" Harry exclaimed.

Fortunately, it didn't take long for the pair of them to get ready. All they needed was a new pair of clothes and some washing up, and they were ready to seize the day. Or at least they were ready to sit through a day of lectures and soak up some information.

When they got to the Great Hall, Harry was surprised that there weren't many people there. There were only around a dozen Ravenclaws (none of whom were in their year) and a few other students here and there on the other tables. The teachers' table only had one person situated at it, but Harry didn't recognize them.

 _I should probably get a clock up in our room if we're this early_. Harry thought with a small inward sigh. He'd programmed a spell that night that would wake him up a certain amount of time after the sun rose, but it wasn't very precise.

"Well, we might as well get to eating then." Harry said awkwardly.

"I guess." Aurore responded absentmindedly.

In hindsight, Harry supposed it was probably better this way. Since they'd arrived so early, Aurore wouldn't have to deal with a sudden onslaught of people. Instead, the amount of people would slowly increase; a much less overwhelming situation for her. Harry sometimes thought he might be just as worried about Aurore as she was herself.

Breakfast seemed to fly by rapidly. In the blink of an eye the tables were full of chatting, eating children. It was uncomfortable even for Harry (and therefore undoubtedly for Aurore) to be around so much noise. He was so used to the peace and quiet of their home. A teacher handed out the schedules to all of the students and soon it was time to leave for his first class: Charms.

The Charms teacher, Professor Flitwick was a very, very short man. Coming up to about Harry's waist, it was no wonder none of the students seemed to take him seriously. Apparently, this person was also the head of Ravenclaw house.

"Now, now, settle down, class!" Professor Flitwick called out. It had no effect. Aurore certainly wasn't enjoying the small amount of chaos in the classroom, so he hoped the small professor would get everyone to actually calm down. Otherwise, he would 'calm' them himself.

After a couple more pleas from the teacher, Harry was ready to try something. However, before he got the chance, Professor Flitwick raised his wand in the air and incanted something inaudible with the noise of all the chattering students.

The room was immediately plunged into darkness. In response, one of Harry's spells, Night Vision activated. Like the name implied, it allowed him to see much more clearly in the dark and became activated when Harry was in a certain level of darkness. He made it non-operational whenever he went to sleep though, otherwise it would get troublesome.

All of the students instantly stopped talking, undoubtedly surprised by the sudden obscurity that engulfed them. After a couple seconds, light returned and Harry's Night Vision spell deactivated. That was a very effective method of silencing a group of people, Harry thought.

"Right then, I hope you will allow me to continue now?" Flitwick asked jovially, a show of impressive patience. Most of the class just nodded dumbly. Honestly, they shouldn't have been surprised by such a basic display of magic from someone who _teaches_ magic.

"Now, in this class, you are going to be learning about charms. Charms are arguably the most diverse branch of magic. It is charms that allow a broomstick to fly, and charms are the spells which cause things such as floating objects to occur. It is mostly through charms that the everyday life of a witch or a wizard is made much easier than muggles." Flitwick lectured. "Since today is the first class, you will not yet be learning any charms. However, I will be teaching you some important information about charms that are absolutely essential for any casting.

Firstly, every charm has certain limitations on it that cannot be surpassed. For example: the _Wingardium Leviosa_ spell will easily allow you to magically lift a stone up in the air, but no matter how much power you channel through your wand, it will not lift up something the size of a large house. Not only would it require lots of magical power, but you would also need to use a more potent levitating charm. Do you understand?"

That was something fundamentally different from Harry's Magic Programming. If he poured enough energy into his floating spell, it would be able to lift just about anything. Harry wondered what other differences there were between the two forms of magic.

"Secondly, many of the charms you will be learning will require the utmost precision to be casted correctly. A single error in wand movement or pronunciation of incantation can cause the spell to be completely defunct or some... undesirable effects. I must ask that you do not attempt to experiment with charms without any supervision from someone who is experienced in that particular area of magic."

Something didn't seem right about that to Harry. While it was true that a single error in code could affect a spell immensely, the actual conditions for the spell's activation could be very simple. Was it possible that all the wand motion and incantation actually created the spell from scratch like his code did?

That was an interesting prospect. It would make sense, since it didn't seem like the wizards had pre-prepared spells to just activate on command. Of course, it was also possible that all of these spells were stored in a large database that allowed all magic-users to access them. Harry would have to keep observing to figure this out.

The rest of charms class continued on without much interest. Flitwick lectured everyone some more about the rules of charms and also how to tell the difference between a charm and any other type of spell. To be honest, Harry wasn't particularly interested in that, but he made sure to remember it nonetheless.

After Charms class, came Transfiguration, a class that Harry was looking forward to immensely. Aurore had displayed the ability to use transfiguration before, but Harry himself had no idea how to replicate those feats. It was simply beyond his ability to translate into code.

There were so many variables in transfiguration; it would take years just to design a single spell if it was for something specific (for example, a spell that could only turn sand into clay, and only in a certain quantity) If it wasn't for something specific, Harry wasn't sure it would even be possible to code.

Now though, there might be an easier way to use transfiguration. If he could understand the fundamental laws of transfiguration that the wizards taught, then it was his hope that he would be better able to translate it into his Magic Programming.

When Harry first walked into class, he immediately noticed that something wasn't quite right. On the outside, it seemed there was nothing wrong: most of the students had arrived and were sitting at their desks. However, there was a tabby cat perched atop the teacher's desk. Ordinarily, this wouldn't really be too unusual, but the tabby cat had a system of magic threads identical to that of a magic-using human.

Harry had his suspicions about what the cat might truly be. Perhaps it was just a magic-using cat, if such a thing existed. Or maybe it was the result of a magical experiment. When the cat leapt off of the desk and transformed into Professor McGonagall mid-jump as its threads twisted around chaotically, Harry was absolutely flabbergasted.

Did she just turn from a cat into a human? But you couldn't just transform yourself into animals like that, right? How in the world had she managed to accomplish something like that?! It was decided now; Transfiguration was Harry's favorite subject.

"Good morning, class." The professor greeted.

"Good morning, Professor." Came the quiet response of a few of the students who had recovered from their shock.

"Good morning, class." Professor McGonagall repeated with increased volume and even clearer diction.

"Good morning, Professor." Most of the students reciprocated with more energy. Seemingly satisfied, McGonagall continued on.

"I am Professor McGonagall, your transfiguration teacher for the next seven years." She introduced. It was unnecessary since she had already introduced herself to all of the first years before they were sorted, but he supposed it was just a formality. "Transfiguration is possibly the most difficult and dangerous branch of magic you will be learning at Hogwarts. A single error can lead to devastating results. As such, I will tolerate no fooling around in my class. If you do not take that warning to heart, you will not be returning to my transfiguration class."

Harry could instantly tell that McGonagall was not going to be a very easygoing or tolerant professor. He could respect the seriousness she took her job with, but hoped that she wouldn't be the kind of teacher to breathe down everyone's neck while they were working. From what he could tell, it seemed unlikely though.

Unfortunately, the rest of the class seemed to be nothing more than lectures. Harry wondered if all of the classes would be like this throughout the day. If so, he wasn't particularly looking forward to them. If Harry knew what his next class would bring, he would have definitely not been looking forward to it. His next subject was Potions.

Harry was intrigued by the idea of potions. He'd never played around too much with chemistry. There was really no need, since any effect that could be achieved with chemicals and reactions could almost certainly be easily replicated by a spell. However, according to his potions book, there were some things which could only he accomplished through the use of potions.

Much to both Harry and Aurore's distaste, Potions class was held in the dungeons of Hogwarts Castle. Dank, gloomy, and musty, it was a stark contrast to the sunny outdoors that they were used to living in.

Professor Snape was garbed in long sable robes, suiting the locale perfectly. His pallid face curled into a sneer and dark greasy hair only added to the impression of a shady character. Aurore seemed to fear him on sight and Harry wondered whether the professor was trying to project the image of someone so... sinister.

"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class." The Potions Professor drawled as he strode into the classroom, robes swishing. "As such, I do not expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion making."

To Harry, subtle science and exact art sounded perfect, though he would prefer a more illuminated environment. He could understand why the professor would think the students wouldn't enjoy it so much. Most children were more interested in big flashy things. Even Harry, whose Magic Programming was nothing but precise and calculated effects, could appreciate the appeal of a bolt of lightning or rush of fire over an invisible process that achieved the same thing.

"However, for those select few, who possess the predisposition, I can teach you to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses." Professor Snape continued. "I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death."

To Harry, that sounded like a load of propaganda, but he wouldn't doubt the professor yet. For all he knew, it was possible for potions to do all of that and more.

"Ah, Potter" Snape said with disdain as he turned his attention to Harry. "And his... mysterious associate, our new celebrities." Aurore trembled under his gaze and Harry began to grow edgy. "Tell me, Potter. What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"I don't know, sir." Harry answered neutrally.

"No? Very well, let me try again. Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?" Snape asked snidely.

"I don't know, sir." Harry echoed. While he'd read that a bezoar was a stone that acted as an antidote for almost anything, he had no idea where they came from and he imagined Professor Snape wouldn't be too impressed if he responded with 'where you keep your potions ingredients'.

"What is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?" The professor inquired once more.

"I don't know, sir." Harry ground out. He was beginning to feel like a broken record now.

"A pity" Snape's tone contradicted his words. "Clearly, fame isn't everything, is it, Mr. Potter? Powdered root of asphodel, when mixed with an infusion of wormwood, will form a very powerful sleeping potion known as The Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone commonly found in the stomach of a goat that can cure most poisons. Monkshood and Wolfsbane are the same plant that also goes by the name of Aconite."

Some of Harry's fellow Ravenclaws were taking notes or gazing contemplatively, but most of the students just stared dumbly at the professor. Harry was beginning to sense a bit of a pattern there.

"Well, why aren't you all copying this down?!" Snape demanded, addressing the entire class. Everyone quickly scurried to find some parchment to write on as the potions professor stalked around the room.

Clearly, Professor Snape was not fond of Harry at all. Harry might go so far as to suggest that Snape was specifically targeting him and trying to embarrass him. Harry had no idea what might cause the potions professor to act that way, but resolved to remain on guard around him. Who knew just how deep Snape's dislike for him went?

All of the classes throughout the day were much the same. There were just lectures and maybe one demonstration given as to how the subject would be useful in life. It wasn't unexpected on the first day of class, but was disappointing nonetheless. Defense Against the Dark Arts in particular had been a joke. The stuttering professor looked as if he would faint at the sight of his own shadow.

The only really enjoyable times in the day were the free periods. Harry and Aurore met up with Hermione and they discussed all sorts of interesting topics. She was very understanding of Aurore's shyness too. Even though Hermione had been sorted into Gryffindor, she was still Harry and Aurore's only real friend at Hogwarts. There were a few Ravenclaws that they knew the names of, but they weren't very close.

All in all, Harry was almost glad when dinner had ended and it was time to head back to the 'dorm' hidden behind Rowena Ravenclaw's statue. He had wanted to gain information, yes, but more of the practical kind and less of the theoretical.

It was true that Harry excelled when it came to theories, but he wanted to leave all of these wizards behind as quickly as possible. He could come up with his own theories after he learned how to actually perform the magic. Still, he supposed there was no helping it.

Aurore looked pretty tired when they got back, so he told her she could just go to bed now. She seemed pretty grateful about that. It shouldn't be expected for a child her age to be able to function at the same level as a child Harry's age.

Harry himself was rather worn down from the day. He was used to just waking up and sleeping when he wanted to, so sticking to a schedule was new to him. His sleep was quick and dreamless.

"Alright Aurore, time to wake up" Harry prodded her lightly.

"Yes, I'm awake." She groaned and turned to face him.

"Well, since we have some time before breakfast if yesterday was anything to go by, I'd like to discuss what's going to happen today." Harry said. "You've already received the rundown of most of the subjects this year, so there's no reason why you'll have to come with me to all of my classes today. I _am_ supposed to be teaching you Magic Programming as my 'apprentice' after all. What do you want to do?"

"I don't really know." Aurore answered, rubbing some of the sleep from her eyes. "I mean, it's, um..." She seemed flustered.

"It's fine if you don't want to go." Harry assured quickly. "You've definitely earned it after being around so many people for the past two days."

"I'd like to stay here, thank you." She answered hesitantly.

"That's fine." Harry responded with a smile. "I have lots of notes in my 'spell book' that I'm sure would be helpful if you're going to be learning Magic Programming. I always keep the book with me since it's where I keep most of my spells, but I could certainly make a copy of it for you."

Aurore nodded, looking relieved.

"I also have something I'd like you to test out, as a personal favor to me." Harry requested, knowing she wouldn't refuse. "But we can get to that after breakfast."

"Right" Aurore accepted.

It was still early when the two arrived at the Great Hall. _I really need to get a clock going, instead of relying on an inaccurate alarm spell_ , Harry thought to himself. It wouldn't be difficult to program a spell to tell the time, but he'd never really gotten around to it.

Harry and Aurore finished a breakfast of eggs and jam on toast quickly with no one nearby enough to induce conversation. So it was still with time to spare that they returned to their quarters.

"What was it that you wanted me to... test?" She asked curiously once they were alone.

"I'll go get it." Harry answered with a grin as he ran off to where their supplies were kept.

When he returned, he was carrying an elongated object wrapped completely in white bandages. There was a bulge on one end of the package. It was pretty heavy too; by the way he was holding it. If a normal wizard were to see it, they might think it was a broomstick. Harry let the end without the bulge fall to the ground with a small thud while supporting the other end with one hand.

"That isn't..." Aurore trailed off, an excited look in her eyes.

"Yes, it is." Harry said and his grin seemed to grow wider. "You're looking at the result of the Excalibur Project I've been working on for the past year or so."

Harry unraveled some of the bandages on the mystery object and they soon all collapsed to the floor in a heap of cloth. Clutched in his hand was an elegant and ornate silver bladed great sword. The hilt was wrapped in a brown leather-like material for easy grip and ended in a blunt and oblate metal pommel. An argent cross guard separated the blade from the hilt with an amber-colored jewel embedded in the center. The entire sword was covered in small carved lines that snaked all over without any seeming rhyme or reason.

"I present to you: the Excalibur II." Harry finished with a dramatic mock bow.

"Wow..." Aurore seemed at a loss for words. Clearly, she hadn't expected _that_. "I know you have been working on it for a long time, but I did not expect for you to be done with it now."

"Well, technically it isn't actually _done_ ," Harry confessed "but it's certainly very usable. I just wanted to see how well it'll work now."

The Excalibur Project: Harry's plan to create a very powerful magical weapon for extreme combat situations where his own spells wouldn't be enough. He'd had the idea for it since his encounter with the giant dragon in the strange underground structure in the forest so long ago. With that backing him up, he'd be able to adventure more confidently into the woods.

He had created all sorts of spells and enchantments to amplify and add to a bladed weapon. Aurore had used her strange impossible magic to transform materials he'd gathered outside into a sword. It was certainly much easier than any doomed attempt Harry might've made to craft a sword himself.

The main problem had been that he would have to have the paper where the design for his enchantments were and then activate them every time he needed to use the sword for combat. Harry had solved this by copying the design in the paper directly onto the sword itself through carvings. It was nostalgically reminiscent of when he'd first discovered the ability of Magic Programming and had copied down the glowing threads he saw around him to see how their coding looked.

Now, Harry felt that there were enough enchantments on the blade for it to be acceptably functional. There were spells that would ensure the blade would not be broken without _very_ powerful force and that it would not dull, but that was barely scratching the surface of it.

"I've prepared some dummies in the empty room and encoded some basic AI into them." Harry told her as he handed Excalibur II to her. "They won't hurt you, but they'll be able to move around and react to attacks. Have fun!" And with that, Harry gathered his books and wand and headed for the stairs back to the common room.

"Goodbye, Harry!" She called after him.

"Goodbye, Aurore!" He called back."I'll be sure to give you a copy of my notes when I get back!"

 **(A/N): Well, that's a wrap, folks! Chapter 6 has finally come out. Writing this was like typing through** **molasses. Curse you, Writers block! Now you all know what the Excalibur Project is. There's just something really appealing about swinging around a giant magic sword, so I had to add it in. More will be explained about the abilities of Excalibur II in later chapters.**

 **Until next time, my lovely readers! Ciao.**


	7. Secret of the Forbidden Corridor

Chapter Seven: Secret of the Forbidden Corridor

"Aurore! Hello?!" Harry called. There was no response.

Harry wasn't too worried right now, though. He had a spell always active that would alert him if Aurore's body was reacting to a large amount of stress, so she wasn't in immediate danger. Or at least, she wasn't aware of any immediate danger to her. Her stress level would be pretty high if she were.

Cautiously, he opened the door to the empty room where he'd asked Aurore to test out his new creation. He hadn't expected her to still be on it after two and a half hours, but maybe she was just very interested in it.

He was not disappointed. Inside, Aurore was brandishing Excalibur II at three wooden dummies that were floating in a circle around her. Lunging quickly, she struck down with the sword in a vertical arc. A bright aureate effulgence erupted from the blade, momentarily forcing Harry to avert his eyes. When he looked back, the dummy was two half-dummies.

Without pausing, Aurore continued with another slash, seemingly with no target. Another rush of resplendent lambency exploded from Excalibur II, completely demolishing another dummy. There was only one left.

Aurore charged forward silently towards the last practice opponent, poised with her sword point facing directly in front of her. In a single swift movement, she pierced the wooden dummy through its middle. Excallibur II once again discharged a glow, though it was much less intense than the earlier ones, resembling more of a luminescent golden halo.

Harry clapped and it echoed loudly in the spacious and empty room. Startled, Aurore jumped slightly before noticing that it was him and relaxing. It was then that Harry noticed the broken dummies scattered around the floor.

"I'm impressed, Aurore." He praised. "I never knew you knew how to use a sword. You looked awesome."

"Oh, ah, thank you." Aurore responded, looking flustered. "I uh, I learned how to, you know, _before_."

"Err, right, sorry." Harry apologized awkwardly. _Before_ was a bit of a taboo.

"Oh no, it's fine!" She assured him hastily. "Really, it's not your fault."

"Well, anyways, it seems Excalibur II is working perfectly." Harry changed the topic quickly. "I was planning on learning how to use a sword properly once school ended for the year, but since you seem so amazing at it, I think you should keep Excalibur II."

"R-really?!" Aurore stammered, very surprised.

"Of course," Harry answered as if it were obvious. "You said you wanted to get stronger, right. Well, hauling around a magic sword of awesomeness certainly won't be doing your enemies any favors, especially if you know how to use it so well."

"I see." She responded, but she didn't look quite as happy as before.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked. "And don't even try to say 'nothing' because we both know that's not true."

"Well, I appreciate your gift. I really do. But, I want to get stronger with my own power." She confessed. "This way, it's like you're still the one who gives all the power."

"Aurore, I want you to think about something for a moment." He requested. She nodded in acceptance. "If you raise that blade to protect both yourself and me, does it really matter that I was the one who gave it to you? It does not matter where you draw your strength from, only that it is there for you to wield. If you use it, then it is your own power."

Aurore nodded, but looked confused by his statement.

"I don't really know what that means myself, to be honest. I think I read it in a book somewhere." Harry confessed with an embarrassed grin.

"And here I thought you were being so wise." Aurore just shook her head in exasperation.

"I can be wise." Harry protested, giving an exaggerating sniff of false indignation. "It's simply beyond your ability to understand my vast repository of wisdom."

"What's a repository?" Aurore asked curiously.

"Storage" Harry explained simply.

"Oh, I see." She replied.

"Anyways, while we're here, I'd like to discuss something with you." All humor vanished from his tone.

"What is it?" Aurore asked, equally solemn.

"Do you remember when Dumbledore warned everyone not to go to the third floor corridor if they didn't want to 'die a most painful death'?" Harry asked.

"How could I forget?" She muttered in response.

"Well, I'm going to go visit the third floor corridor." He revealed.

"What? No! Harry, you can't-" Her slew of protest was halted when he raised his hand in a gesture to wait.

"I know that you don't want me to go because you think it might be too dangerous." Harry began. "And you may be right. I was planning on just going at night without telling you and leaving a note with instructions in case I didn't return."

Aurore looked like she was fighting to stay silent; she definitely was _not_ pleased.

"But, after seeing you just now, I think I should take you with me." He finished. "Unless, of course, you'd wish to stay."

"Of course I'll come." She almost whispered. "But don't you dare ever do something like that. I won't forgive you if you leave me behind."

"Err, yeah, I kind of got that." Harry replied, sensing her thinly veiled hostility. "Listen, what I really want more than anything is to keep you safe. I've been protecting you maybe a bit too much. I remember how I had to always fend for myself when I was your age. It's not something I'd ever wish on you, but I'm also beginning to remember that I was _able_ to protect myself. You're not the same delicate little girl you were when we first met. That's why I'm telling you and letting you come with me, so I promise right now: I won't ever try to hide something from you like that again."

"Thank you, Harry." She breathed. "I didn't know if you would ever stop seeing me as being so- so tiny and breakable. You're the only person I have. I couldn't bear if you were to never treat me like I can do things myself. I grow up too."

"I know." He agreed. "It's hard to realize it, but I know."

"All drama aside, when are we going to the corridor?" Aurore redirected.

"Some time soon, I'm not quite sure yet." Harry said. "You know, you keep getting better and better at English. You know more English words than most people your age and it's not even your first language."

"Oh, it's nothing compared to you." She dismissed his praise, but he could tell that she was inwardly very proud of her English.

"Well, it isn't my intent to rodomontade, but I happen to regard myself as a grandiloquent elocutionist." Harry proclaimed with mock pompousness.

"I haven't the slightest clue what half of those words mean." Aurore responded in a deadpan tone.

"Then, my dear, it would seem that you have much to learn." He drawled in a similar manner to Professor Snape, though he couldn't imagine Snape ever saying 'my dear' in any situation.

"Okay, you sounded way too much like Professor Snape." Aurore said, making an unpleasant face.

"We should never speak of the incident." He decided.

"Agreed," She corroborated.

"But for now, since I still have some time before my next class starts, it is time for your first lesson in the art of Magic Programming, my apprentice."

"Huh?" She looked perplexed.

"You are my apprentice. As such, I'm supposed to teach you my 'mastery', which is Magic Programming." He explained patiently. "In other words, welcome to Harry Potter's school of how to not blow yourself up when experimenting in magic. Believe me, I am a master at the fine art of staying in one piece."

"Oh, yes, right!" Aurore exclaimed in recollection. "Sorry, I wasn't really thinking."

"That's fine." Harry dismissed easily. "Now, let's begin."

Harry opened up his notebook and started leafing through it for a few moments before coming to the desired page. It was titled at the top: Basic Laws of Spell Crafting. On the opposite page was a beautifully drawn mix of shapes, usually symmetrical, inside of a circle, though Harry knew that they weren't technically 'drawn'.

"Now, the first thing you need to know about how I do Magic Programming is that I can see threads of magical energy everywhere." Harry began. "You already knew this, of course, but I felt the need to refresh that for you. Since you don't have the same ability, you will not be able to do everything the same way I do.

To begin coding, you have to open up an interface. In order to do that, you will have to start by drawing a shape on a piece of paper or some other material, only then can I make a blank screen. For now, you won't be able to open an interface by yourself. This will stay that way until I manage to find a way for other people to create interfaces. For now, you will simply have to use mine.

You can't see the threads of magical energy, but you will be able to see a representation of them. Every piece of information you encode will manipulate the strings of magic around it, but it also creates a simulation of these threads in whatever shape you used to start up the interface.

Now, let's start by opening up a blank interface. First we'll take this blank sheet of paper and draw a circle, right?"

Harry drew a circle in ink and then activated the screen with his will power and allowed Aurore to take a good look at it. She seemed fascinated by the whole thing. She'd seen him program up close before, but she'd usually get bored quickly and leave. Now that he was actually teaching her about it though, it was infinitely more engaging.

"The first thing I'm going to teach you is the meaning of each of these symbols, which I call runes." He continued, pointing to a part of the key board where the strange symbols were printed on the keys. "This one, as far as I can tell, represents energy or power. It's needed in any spell you use because all spells require energy to drive them."

Aurore nodded, soaking in the knowledge eagerly.

"This next rune is for fire. Of that, I am certain." He explained. "Now, I'm going to show you a very basic spell. Watch." He quickly typed in: "[fire]=50[energy]" *.

"So, does that mean that the spell uses energy and fire to do something?" Aurore guessed.

"Close, it means that the spell uses energy in order to create the fire." Harry corrected. "The way I activate spells like these is by manipulating a few of my own threads to interact with the threads being produced by the spell. I'm not sure if you'll be able to use a spell like this without an activation condition, but we'll see."

Slowly, Harry closed his eyes, but the threads were still visible to him. He focused on sending a few of his own threads to supply the energy necessary. The spell did its work and soon there was a moderately sized ball of fire floating in front of his chest.

"Now, with a simple spell like this, a lot of it is open to interpretation from your will." Harry lectured. "For example if I have enough imagination and mental strength, I can manipulate the fire to my own desires. I suppose it's a bit like your own magic in that respect."

To demonstrate his point, Harry willed the flame to transform into a blazing triangle, then square, then a humanoid figure. Finally, Harry allowed the fire to abate.

"Now, it's also possible to set an activation condition. That way, you won't have to focus on the spell and you can concentrate on your surroundings more." He went on. "Usually, I just make the condition a word. However, you need to make sure that it's a word that you won't speak in a conversation, or your spell will go off without you intending it to. That's why I use Latin."

He added to the code so that it read:

/sound/activation/"ignis"/;

 **If** activation (/"ignis"/)=true;

 **Then** :

[fire]=50[energy];

"Are you with me so far?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Aurore affirmed.

"Alright, now why do you think I put the bit of information with all of the slashes at the top?" He questioned.

"Umm, is it because the spell needs it in order to work?" She offered weakly, not sure of her answer.

"Sort of," Harry agreed. "It tells the spell what how to recognize the word 'ignis'. In computer programming it's called importing. Basically, it means that when I type 'ignis', the spell will look at another file in the interface that specifies what 'ignis' sounds like. Creating files for sounds is pretty difficult to do from scratch, so I usually use an actual computer to do that and then just copy it in."

"Got it," Aurore replied. "The equo-eque- _equation_ tells the spell what to do and the condition tells the spell when to do it." She looked just a touch flustered from her stumbling over the word 'equation'.

"Exactly!" Harry beamed, ignoring her slight embarrassment. "Now I want you to try the spell. As soon as you're the one holding it, your threads should connect to its threads and it will activate whenever you say 'ignis'."

Aurore carefully took the parchment into her hand and stared at it. Instead of the plain circle Harry had drawn on it before, there was a more complex geometric design consisting of triangles, straight lines, and a few other shapes both inside and outside the circle. Harry could see that it was exactly what the magic threads from the spell looked like.

"Ignis" she half whispered. Instantly a bright ball of churning flames bursted into existence just above her hand. From Harry's perspective, it looked as if she was clutching the fire ball with her bare skin.

After a couple seconds, she started playing with the fire (not to worry, playing with fire is okay in this situation. But don't try it at home, kids), changing it from a ball into a horse or a bird or a dragon. After a few minutes of this she asked Harry how to get rid of it.

"Oh, err, right," Harry said sheepishly. "I forgot about that part. It's pretty easy, you just have to will it to disappear just like when you will it to change shape."

Aurore nodded in understanding and the flame soon dissipated under her will. She then turned to him, a silent prompt to continue.

"Well, that's about all I really have time for now. Transfiguration is about to start. Do you want to come with me?" He offered.

"Sure" she accepted.

I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I

In the darkness of night, two figures crept along the hall silently and invisibly, taking great caution not to bump into anything. If they were visible, it could be remarked that they both were rather short, one more so than the other.

Harry quickly tapped Aurore on the shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. The distinct sound of footsteps on hard stones grew steadily louder. The two pressed themselves against a wall and waited for whoever it was to approach.

The uninviting sight of Argus Filch and a small cat trotting at high s feet revealed the person causing the noise. The tabby cat stared pointedly at Harry with red eyes and Harry realized it could smell them, in spite of their invulnerability to sight and hearing. Luckily, the feline didn't seem too interested in them and trotted off at Filch's heels as he passed.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, not that anyone would be able to hear it, and tapped Aurore on the shoulder again. At least, he thought it was her shoulder. It was hard to tell when he couldn't see or hear her. They moved onwards again.

Around ten minutes later, they came to a stop in front of the entrance to a corridor, the third floor corridor on the right hand side to be precise. Slowly and even more cautiously than before, the two of them trekked forwards. Every little sound and movement almost made Harry jump, but so far they hadn't come across anything particularly dangerous.

Eventually, they explored the entire main corridor and still found no sign of anything remotely life threatening. After the main hallway, they tried entering through some of the doors. Finally, after unlocking a thick wooden door, they were greeted with the sight of something that could certainly lead to 'a most painful death'.

Inside the room, a giant dog with three heads was curled up on the floor sleeping. It wasn't just _big_ , it was humongous. That, and it looked like it was about to wake up from its nap. Quickly scanning the room for any more information, he decided that now would be a good time to get out.

That was when Harry noticed that Aurore was visible to him. Looking at his own hand, he found that he too was visible. Was there some kind of enchantment on the room that removed concealing spells? It didn't matter right now; they needed to leave ASAP.

Harry, with a whisper of "rapidiatis" increased his speed tenfold, picked up a surprised Aurore in his arms and bolted out the door and to their room. When they finally did arrive, Harry laid on his bed, panting from the exerting and exhausting sprint.

"Well, now we know what Dumbledore meant." Aurore supposed in a deadpan tone. "But why would he keep something like _that_ in a school. It would he more in place at _our_ home."

"I'm not completely sure." Harry admitted. "However, I did notice it was standing over a trapped door. It's likely guarding something important. Your guess is as good as mine. The good news is that I doubt the danger Dumbledore warned everyone about will get loose and wreak havoc on the school, which is what we wanted to figure out tonight."

"Luckily," She agreed.

"It's late." He commented. "We should both get some sleep if we want to be able to actually be able to function tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Harry." Aurore murmured.

"Good night." Harry replied in kind.

Unfortunately, sleep would not come easily to him. Harry's mind was awhirl with thoughts about what that three headed behemoth could be protecting. He resolved to do some research later. For now, though, there was nothing to be done.

Harry sighed softly in his bed. It was going to be a long night, he was sure.

 **(A/N): Chapter seven is finally out. So sorry for the wait, but I've been feeling pretty sick recently. Anyways, not much happened in this chapter, but I promise the next one will be much more interesting. *evil grin***

 **(*)- The [ ] is to show the use of a rune. It's easier to use [fire] than writing out fireRune for every single rune in programming (there are some programs I've written out that use a _lot_ of runes). It also makes the equations seem cleaner, I think.**


	8. operation: Sleeping Puppy

**(A/N): Happy Thanksgiving! I'm so sorry this chapter took so long to update, but after rewriting it several times, it is now here! To be honest, I'm not too satisfied with this chapter myself (though it's not my worst work, it could do with some improvement), so I hope you all enjoy anyways. Without further ado, I present to you:**

Chapter Eight: Operation: Sleeping Puppy

 _...and so during the month of December, through the snow and hail, it is said The Holy Knights smote the cerberus thrice, once for each head, and their path lay unbarred..._

Harry closed the ancient looking tome with a loud snap. So far, no matter where he turned for research, he could find nothing helpful. All of the magical creature books that would contain information on his topic of interest weren't allowed for first years and were kept in the restricted section of the library. His topic of interest, of course, was anything and everything about three-headed dogs.

He could try to sneak in, obviously, but he had no idea what kind of protections might be on the place. There was a rather large amount of threads stretching all about the restricted section and when Harry translated the threads into code, it showed up as some foreign language he didn't recognize. He could make neither heads nor tails of it.

Harry had even gone so far as to search for obscure references to the thing, like the book he'd just snapped shut. It seemed that the entire volume was just a tale of how some god-sent magical knights went on various quests for one reason or another. All he had learned was that the beast was called a cerberus and was said to be very good at guarding things. There were no mentions of how to get passed one, besides the good old "kill it till it's dead" method, which Harry wasn't too eager to try his hand at.

He absolutely had to get under that trapped door, though. If something as strong and rare (Harry assumed it was rare based on the lack of information about it anywhere) as a cerberus was guarding something, he wanted to know what it was. It could possibly be more dangerous than the beast guarding it. Besides that, there was still some small childish part of Harry's mind that became excited at the prospect of action and adventure, though Harry would deny he was anything less than the epitome of maturity.

"This is pointless." Harry muttered to himself. "I'm not going to find anything more."

With that acknowledged, he rose from his seat and returned _The Knight Saints of Normandy, Volume VII_ to its bookshelf. If searching here wasn't going to give him any more information, then he might as well leave. He'd figure something out later.

It was the second Saturday of the year, so there were no classes for him to attend. This meant, essentially, that he had lots of time and little to do with it. On the up side, it meant that he had plenty of time to spend with Aurore, and teach her some more about Magic Programming.

She seemed to be progressing well with it, Harry supposed. Science had never really been one of her strong points on the rare occasions when he'd tried to teach her some. She just wasn't interested in _how_ the world worked, only happy to know that it _did_. That being said, it was surprising that she was able to progress at the rate she had with something so scientifically oriented. It had only been a few days and already, she was capable of creating her own simple spells in code.

Wiping his mind of those thoughts, he turned his attention back to his goal: finding out more on cerberuses- cerberusi? Was there even a plural form for the word? It didn't matter, Harry decided. But where would he get that thrice-cursed information?!

 _Let's see._ He mused, trying to clear his mind of frustration. _I can't get to any useful books in the library, and the 'one of a kind' books in the Ravenclaw tower haven't yielded any results either. Therefore, I can conclude that I won't be able to obtain any books that will help me with this._

Harry was now in full on 'scientist mode' and there would be no stopping his thoughts until he reached a satisfactory result. _So, if I can't get any help from books, where else could I get the information? Would there be any students who might know something about this? Maybe, but why would they want to help me? I certainly wouldn't go out of my way for some random kid looking for knowledge._

Harry almost slapped himself when he thought of the answer. _Of course! I'm the bloody 'boy-who-lived' and a Ravenclaw to boot. Who wouldn't want to help me with an innocent 'research project'? There might even be teachers who know about this too! Then again, if they know so much about it, they might be the one to have placed the cerberus there in the first place, and I can't have anyone getting suspicious. Students it is, then._

The question then was who to turn to. He didn't have any kind of relationship with anyone in the school except for Aurore and that Gryffindor, Hermione. And as clever as the recently sorted Gryffindor witch might be, she came from a non-magical family, so she wouldn't know any information about magical creatures that he couldn't find in a book available to first-years.

Still musing, Harry wondered how to possibly get the help of some older-year who might be privy to more knowledge when something he'd once read a long time ago flashed in his mind. 'When trying to prove a hypothesis, it always helps to have more people. Other people will likely have different ideas and perspectives, and will come up with other solutions.' It was in one of the first books he'd ever read on the scientific method back in Little Winging, Surrey.

He wasn't trying to prove a hypothesis exactly, but the basis of that rule could still apply. Even if Hermione wouldn't have prior knowledge on something like a cerberus, she _was_ very clever and would likely have her own ideas. Besides, Harry just kind of got a good vibe from her. Something told him that she wouldn't betray his trust. It was the same feeling he'd had about Aurore when they had both been left alone together in what had become their home.

That sealed the deal. Harry was going to approach Hermione for help regardless of her background and see if she could assist him. After all, he had just assumed she wouldn't be able to help him And had dismissed her entirely. That simply wouldn't do.

Unfortunately, though the two had become something like friends over the two weeks they had known each other, he had no idea where she would be at any given point of the day. They were in different houses, after all. He would have to wait until lunch came around. That would leave about, Harry checked the simple leather-strapped watch on his wrist, one hour and fifteen minutes.

He'd found the watch a couple days ago in an abandoned class room while he went exploring the castle just to find out more about it. With the sheer amount of magical threads in the place, it would certainly never get boring.

The watch itself was nothing special, it just had a few charms on it to make sure it wouldn't break to easily, which he learned when he translated the simple design of threads in it to his magical programming. He had really needed a way to tell time more accurately than the giant bell that sounded at the beginning and end of each period, so he'd just nabbed the thing and left.

Once again focusing his thoughts on the present, Harry wondered what to do in the meantime. There was little use in continuing his research until after lunch and he didn't feel much like working on programming anything. Maybe he could go see Aurore? It had been over an hour since he'd left her in their room with her 'homework' from their little lessons.

So Harry leisurely walked back to the Ravenclaw dormitories and to the room hidden behind the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw, wondering how his apprentice had fared with her assignment. Technically, it wasn't really homework, since all of the lessons were at 'home', but it was the first piece of work he'd asked her to complete on her own.

When Harry came in to the room where they studied and he researched, he had to duck to avoid an impressively sized rush of flames. His shield would have probably protected him, but he didn't have much time to think and the mass of fire was quite unexpected.

"Harry!" Aurore squawked, equally surprised. "I'm so sorry! I mean, I didn't realize- and the spell- fire just-" She couldn't seem to form a coherent sentence.

"No, it's fine!" Harry reassured quickly. "I should have known considering the homework I gave you. You seem to be doing pretty well with it though, if that blast was anything to go by." He chuckled a little.

Aurore just fidgeted silently and blushed in response.

"Well, anyways, hello!" Harry greeted cheerfully, though it was a bit late for that. "I just came to check up on you. It wouldn't do to leave my cute little apprentice to her own devices for too long, so I just had to see what you were up to."

"Harry!" Aurore was now red as a beet.

"Oh, alright, you got me." Harry capitulated. "Actually, I just got bored and I didn't have anywhere _else_ to go..."

"Well, maybe next time you can knock?" She requested. "It might lower the chances of unexpected burning flames of death getting thrown at you."

"'Burning flames of death'?" Harry inquired. "Is that what you're going to name your fire spell?"

"No," Aurore had to hold back a snort. "Actually, I'm calling it 'flagro'. That means 'burning', right?"

"I think so," Harry agreed. "I don't pretend to be an expert at Latin, so I couldn't say for sure, but does it really matter?"

"I guess not." She conceded.

"So, tell me all the specifics of the spell and then I'll open up the code to see how you did there." Harry directed.

"Right, so the main purpose of the spell is to created a wave of fire without using up extra energy and focusing too much." She explained. "I haven't added in the activation word yet, so I still have to concentrate in order to actually start the spell, but from there it works on its own. I was just testing it when you came in."

"Clearly," Harry agreed. "Though maybe next time we can try testing in the empty room instead?"

Aurore blushed a little and nodded.

"Well, let's take a look at your code." He continued. She handed the parchment where she designed the spell and let him bring up the interface.

/path/wave/shockwaveFraction/

/sources/body/02/bothHands/bothHands1/

[Fire]=635[energy]

{ _wave_ }: path=/shockwaveFraction/, y=1/2x, distance=45, [speed]=12, [size]=400;

[time]=30;

source: /bothHands1/;

"Well, everything seems to be in order." Harry commented. "If you just add in the activation word, it will function as a fully operational programmed spell."

Aurore seemed to beam with pride at his praise. _She should be proud_ , Harry thought, _it's an accomplishment to design your own spell with programming_

"However there is one thing that you have to be careful to put into every spell that I don't see here." Harry warned, his voice solemn. "You need to make sure that if the caster has less energy than the spell requires, it won't try to activate. I don't know what will happen if you completely deplete your magical energy and I'd rather not find out."

Aurore nodded and swallowed largely.

"But other than that, everything was done perfectly." Harry concluded in a much lighter tone and the somber atmosphere vanished. "Anyways, on a completely unrelated topic, I was thinking about bringing Hermione in on our research about that three headed dog we found."

"She's okay." Aurore accepted. Hermione was really the only witch Aurore thought was tolerable, though she did still shy away from her. Harry wondered if Aurore had a good feeling about her too.

"Lunch won't come around for another forty minutes or so." Harry commented, checking his watch. "Wanna have a little spar in the meantime? You did say you wanted to get stronger."

"A 'spar'?" Aurore wondered, unfamiliar with the word.

"Yes, a spar- it's kind of like a fight, except it's for training and we don't really try to hurt each other too badly." Harry explained. "There is a point where you can't improve by only fighting dummies."

"Okay, I want to find out what this 'spar' is like." She accepted, rolling the new word off of her tongue.

"Alright, then!" Harry exclaimed, feeling a bit excited. "We'll have it in the empty room. Maybe I should just start calling it the 'Battle Room' instead at this point. But anyways, you should bring Excalibur II with you. Spar or not, we _will_ be fighting and I don't want you to hold back." Harry paused for a moment as if to consider something before adding "Much."

WWWWWWWWWWWWWAWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

Harry had to move very quickly to dodge Aurore's attacks, so quickly that he had to increase his speed with magic. That was something he learned very soon once her various spells started depleting his shield. That was without even drawing her sword.

" _Terra Clavum_ " Harry incanted in a whisper. It wouldn't do to announce all of his spells beforehand, after all.

A veritable forest of thin but sharp stone spikes erupted from the ground like giant needles, breaking quite a few floorboards in the process and preventing Aurore from advancing on him for a few moments. It wouldn't keep her for long though, so he added another spell.

" _Disploda Flamma_ " He muttered.

A large swath of blazing fire swept in a wave through the stone prongs. The effect was not dissimilar to Aurore's own newly created program-spell. Then, to boost the flames, he threw in a gust of wind with a whispered " _Ventus_ ".

After the fire abated, Harry peered over between his spikes, but couldn't spot Aurore anywhere. He hastily spun around and found her charging silently at him with Excalibur II unsheathed and in her grip. Fortunately, he still had enough time to barely dodge and prepare another spell.

" _Irritum_ " Harry intoned. This was definitely one of his strongest spells. It was the most complicated he'd designed without doubt and also required a truckload of energy.

Just as Aurore twisted her blade to slash through him (though she would probably stop before she actually cut him), a barely visible distortion appeared in the air. As soon as her sword made contact with the distortion, it stopped. It didn't bounce off or clash, it just stopped.

Aurore tried to tug the sword out of the strange barely noticeable distortion in the air, but it was to no avail. The blade was simply stuck and it wouldn't come out until he released the spell. _Irritum_ or Severing Void, as he referred to the spell when he didn't want to cast it, was a spell that manipulated time and space. By creating a very thin bubble of space where time flowed so slow that it almost stopped, it rendered anything inside completely inaccessible to someone outside the bubble and would stop projectiles as well.

Harry only had several more seconds before he would expend too much energy and the spell's safety system would deactivate it before he lost all his power, so he had to be swift. Coming out from behind his defensive barrier, Harry sprinted towards Aurore but turned at the last moment and came up behind her with two fingers poised at her jugular.

The time-space barrier deactivated and Excalibur II clattered to the floor. They both knew that a single word from Harry would be capable of doing a plethora of nasty things that would more often than not end her life very swiftly.

"I win." Harry declared and pulled his hand out from under he chin. "Man, that was intense. I don't think I've had so much fun for a while, though it was kind of exhausting."

"It was very focusing." Aurore agreed, losing some tension. Harry wasn't sure that the word 'focusing' could be used like that, but refrained from commenting. "You can't have your attention anywhere else."

Harry could tell that Aurore wasn't bothered too much by her loss. He wasn't sure that she was even going all out, and he knew that he was. Harry never imagined that Aurore would be such a natural fighter. She was usually so timid. Harry honestly thought the fight could've gone either way. He needed to get stronger as well.

Looking at his watch, Harry realized that lunch started in two minutes. He was sure that their spar hadn't taken that long. Maybe he'd just been so focused that he'd lost track of time?

"We should probably head to the Great Hall now." Harry suggested. "We're going to be late for lunch."

"Sure, just one moment." Aurore called back. Harry blinked. Hadn't she been right next to him just a moment ago?

WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

Harry was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Aurore was too, if her nervous squirming was anything to go by. So many people were staring at them like they'd just defied some unbreakable law of the universe, which honestly wouldn't be too surprising when you add magic into the mix.

Harry fought to ignore all of the stares. What was so surprising anyways. All he'd done was sit at the Gryffindor table. Of course, Aurore had come with him since she would be uncomfortable sitting around so many strangers without him there.

"Err, Harry, is there a... particular reason that you're sitting here?" Hermione questioned tentatively.

"Of course," Harry replied, skewering another piece of chicken with his fork and taking a bite. "I just came to see my friend at lunch. Why? Is there a problem?"

"Um, no, no problem," The Gryffindor assured him. "So, who is this friend of yours?" Harry just raised an eyebrow at her as if to say 'isn't it obvious?'.

"You, of course," He answered. "I can count how many friends I have on my right hand. One of them is you. You look surprised. Why is that?"

"Never mind, it's nothing." Hermione dismissed, eying her lap. Harry thought he could see her eyes become misty, though.

"Well, anyways, as much as I enjoy a nice friendly chat, I was wondering if you could help me with something." Harry redirected. "I was doing some independent research and I was hoping you'd be able to give a second opinion on it."

"Sure, what is it about?" Hermione inquired eagerly. Harry honestly wondered shy she wasn't sorted into Ravenclaw with how excited she got at the prospect of research.

"There's a magical creature called a cerberus, a huge three-headed dog. I'm trying to write a hypothetical paper on how to react if you encounter one, but I'm not having much success in research." Harry explained.

"Great, this will be fun!" She exclaimed and dived into her food with a fervor and a cheerful smile.

An hour and a half or so later, three children were seated around a small round table in the Hogwarts Library, speaking to each other in hushed voices. A dusty and very thick tome was lying open among them.

"From what I can tell, the descriptions of the cerberus and its characteristics seem to match up with the cerberus in greek mythology." Hermione whispered. "The books here don't mention an ability for the cerberus to be charmed to sleep by music like with Orpheus, but that may be because Orpheus was said do have accomplished through his great skill with the lyre..."

"What?" Harry just stared dumbly at her, completely devoid of understanding. Aurore looked equally confused from her spot at the table.

"Don't you know the story of Orpheus and the cerberus in Greek mythology?" Hermione asked. "I suppose it isn't as famous as the story of Hercules and the cerberus."

"I didn't even know the cerberus was _in_ Greek mythology, or any mythology for that matter." Harry admitted.

"Well, it is." Hermione responded with a small huff. "Then again, I suppose the only reason I know so much about it was because of a school project on Greek mythology."

"Thank you for coming and telling me all this." Harry expressed his gratitude. "You've been really helpful."

"You're welcome." Hermione replied with a small grin. "Unfortunately, I don't think there's much more help I could give. I'm only telling you what I know from mythology, so I don't know if it's true or not. You'd have to test it against a real cerberus to find out and even if there was a cerberus here, it would be very dangerous."

"It's fine." Harry waved her concerns off. "Why don't you tell me about how, Orphus, was it? -about how he fought a cerberus. There's nothing to lose."

"Alright," Hermione accepted. "Well, Orpheus was a legendary musician in Ancient Greece. He was said to be able to accomplish all kinds of amazing feats with his music. He went on a quest to retrieve his wife from the Underworld. One of his challenges was to get past the Cerberus, who guarded the entrance to the Underworld. The myth says that he played his lyre with such skill that it lulled the Cerberus to sleep and he could continue."

"So, the only way to get past a cerberus is to use a magic harp?" Harry wondered, not sounding particularly happy. "What about Hercules, what did he do?"

"Well, Hercules defeated the cerberus pretty much the same way he defeated just about every other monster. He wrestled it with his bare hands and essentially beat it into submission, or something like that."

"Hmm..." Harry frowned slightly. He story of Hercules didn't help him one bit. The story of Orpheus meant that he might be able to put it to sleep with music, but that music might have to come from an enchanted instrument or something.

"Harry, why do you look so somber about this?" Hermione inquired, her tone showing a hint of suspicion as her brain began to rapidly piece things together. "I know what it's like to be frustrated with your research about something, but it's just extracurricular research, right? You're not going to actually... _need_ to get passed a cerberus, are you? Please tell me you're not about to do something dangerous."

Harry shared a pensive look with Aurore who had been sitting silently the while time and fidgeting. They seemed to come to a wordless agreement. Harry stood up abruptly and asked the two of them to follow him before heading out of the library. Once the three of them were alone in an empty corridor, he stopped and turned to Hermione.

"Remember when I told you that the research was 'hypothetical'?" He asked casually.

"Yes..." Hermione answered uncertainly.

"I lied." He continued flatly.

"You- what?!" She exclaimed. "You mean you actually-"

"I'm trying to get passed a huge three-headed dog that could probably swallow me in one bite, preferably without fighting it." He interrupted. "Aurore is too, we're both going."

"Are you serious?!" Hermione shrieked and Harry was glad that there was no one around. "How is that even- where would you find- do you have any idea how _dangerous_ that would be?!"

" _Keep your voice down!_ " Harry hissed and she was silent. "Listen, we found a cerberus on the third floor corridor, the forbidden one. It was standing on a trapped door, guarding something. I need to find out what it's guarding. If there's something that important and under that much protection, it could be deadly."

"Harry, there's a reason why that corridor is forbidden." Hermione whispered fiercely. "Like you said, it's under heavy guard, so we're completely safe. Let the teachers deal with whatever important thing is hidden there."

"I will _never_ trust some authority figure to do their duty just because they're supposed to." Harry promised in a dark tone. Aurore's fidgeting rose to a new level.

It was clear that Hermione wanted to respond with 'why ever not?' something similar, but she held her tongue, hesitant to poke at what was obviously a touchy subject for Harry. Instead, she decided to just accept that that was Harry's opinion and she wasn't likely to change it.

Internally, she began to struggle with herself. She'd always been taught to trust authority for any help. Harry was obviously about to break some rules, and not just minor infractions either. His life could be at risk! At the same time, Harry was her first friend and friends help each other, don't they?

Logically, she also knew that people who you didn't know well couldn't truly be trusted. The only thing she knew about the teachers was that they knew how the subject they taught very well and how to teach it. The only thing she knew about Harry was that he was kind to her and wanted to be her friend. Biting her lip, she made her decision.

"I'm coming with you." She declared with finality. Whatever Harry was expecting, it hadn't been that.

"What?" He asked dumbly.

"I'm coming with you." Hermione repeated. "If you refuse me, I'll just tell a teacher what you're planning. I won't allow you to go if I can't watch your back. You're my friend, after all."

"Alright, fine," Harry accepted with a reluctant sigh. "I guess one more person won't change anything too much. Meet us by the forbidden corridor tomorrow night at around midnight. We'll be there with a plan. Otherwise, come sit with us during meals if you want to meet sooner."

"Right," Hermione nodded in acceptance. Just as Harry turned to leave, Aurore spoke up in a soft voice.

"Harry, can I stay and speak to Hermione for a bit?" She requested. "It won't take long."

"Are you sure?" Harry checked, looking quite surprised. Both Hermione and now Aurore were acting out of character.

"Yes," Aurore affirmed. "I am."

"Alright, I won't be far away. You know what to do if you need to find me." Harry concluded. Only when his retreating form vanished did Aurore speak once more.

"You said to Harry: 'you are my friend, after all'." She stated quietly.

"I did." Hermione agreed, though she began to look a bit nervous. A tense silence settled over the two of them.

"You're right." Aurore finally continued. "You are his friend. I was Harry's first friend and you are his second. I don't want you to think that I don't want you here. That's not true. But Harry has faced many difficult things in his past. Don't betray him."

With that, Aurore ruined her almost intimidating demeanor by scurrying off in search of Harry. Hermione was left surprised and thoughtful, standing alone in that empty corridor.

WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

" _I'm here._ " Harry whispered to Hermione, just a few paces away. The Gryffindor sprang up with a start and winced as she almost fell to the ground.

"Harry! Is that you?" Hermione hissed into the darkness. She couldn't see anyone.

"Yes, it's me." Harry's voice answered. "Aurore's here too, but we're invisible. I'm going to grab your hand lightly and lead you to the cerberus, okay?"

"Okay," She whispered back. Feeling the invisible hand touch her own made her flinch slightly before she relaxed, allowing the hand to guide her.

Only a minute or so later, the hand halted in front of a large wooden door. Hermione waited for a few moments, but the hand did not move. Just as she was going to ask what was wrong, Harry's voice came again.

"We're here. I'm going to cancel the invisibility now. The room dispelled it as soon as we went in last time, so it won't help us and we should all be able to see each other." He informed her.

Instantly, Harry and Aurore materialized around Hermione, though it was difficult to discern their faces in the darkness. Still, she could see Harry's hand grasping her wrist. He let go soon and turned to open the door, but it was locked. Before he could remedy the situation, Hermione pulled out her wand and pointed it at the lock.

" _Alohamora_ ," She incanted, and the door unlocked with an audible click.

Harry raised an eyebrow at her in askance.

"It's just a spell I learned recently." She explained softly with a light blush.

The interior of the room was mostly dark as the only light came from the stars and moon sifting through a few windows. The three-headed dog Harry remembered quite vividly laid sleeping on the floor and obstructing the trapped door from access beneath its front paw. It looked to be waking up now, though. _Commence Operation: Sleeping Puppy_ , he thought to himself amusedly.

" _Obcino Soporifia_ " Harry intoned quietly, praying that the spell he'd most recently created would work, otherwise 'Operation: Sleeping Puppy' was doomed. The gentle song of piano rang throughout the room and the cerberus did not wake. Sighing in relief, Harry gestured to Aurore and Hermione to help move its paw out from over the trapped door.

Once the door was revealed and Harry opened it cautiously, they peered down into the inky black depths below. There was no way to tell what was down there or how far down it was in such darkness. It was like a foreboding oubliette. Once again, before Harry could act, Hermione incanted another spell.

" _Lumos_ " She murmured, holding out her wand. A radiant white ball of light swirled into existence at the tip, casting an eerie glow down to the floor where it looked like some kind of giant green plant was lying.

"Well, no time like the present," Harry muttered. "Geronimo." And with that, he jumped into the pit and landed on the soft plant material. Aurore followed shortly after and then finally Hermione jumped in as well.

Harry was about to suggest what to do then when he paused, feeling that something was off. He could see movement. It was too late by the time Harry realized what was happening and the plant that had broken their fall began to wrap itself tightly around them. Hermione screamed as she realized what was happening.

" _Flagro!_ " Aurore called out in desperation.

Flames burst from her hands and crashed against the plant ensnaring them in a huge wave of blazing fire. Evidently, the plant didn't like the fire and Aurore was released into whatever laid below. Seeing her example, Harry also tried to calm himself and muttered a fire spell. He was soon released as well.

Falling down to hard stone several feet below with an unpleasant thud, Harry rose to his feet and waited about ten seconds for Hermione to come down too. From her screaming, it seemed as though she was still panicking. For a horrifying second, Harry wondered whether Hermione actually knew a spell for fire in the first place. Deciding not to leave it to chance, Harry called out.

"Hermione, I'm going to a spell, but I don't want to hit you by accident so I need you to relax and stop struggling!"

Harry heard no response, but the screaming had stopped. Hoping against hope that she hadn't suffocated, he formed the words of one of his more powerful spells.

" _Excaecant Ignes!_ " He cried, feeling the drop in his energy as the spell activated.

White hot flames erupted from around Harry's form in a spiraling tornado of blinding heat, looking ethereal in its silver brilliance. Magical shields locked into place to prevent himself from getting burned. The effulgent argent fires blazed through the plant like a vengeful demon, reducing it to ashes on contact. With intense willpower, Harry forced the flames away from where he knew Hermione was. The display lasted only about ten seconds.

The Gryffindor first year crashes to the ground in a groaning, frazzled heap. Rising to her feet with a wince, Hermione gazed up at the smoldering remains of whatever carnivorous plant they had just escaped.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side." She muttered as if in a daze.

"Well, that was exciting." Harry commented cheekily, panting slightly. "I suppose we ought to gave expected more defense than our furry friend upstairs."

"You're acting more sarcastic than usual today." Hermione noted.

"My wit only seems to thrive in deadly situations." He explained. "Anyways, if I had to guess, I'd say we have to continue on through that door there if we want to move forward."

Harry pointed to a large and imposing door of thick dark wood inlaid with aged iron bars. He could tell that there was no magic on the door from the lack of glowing threads around it, something that was rare in the magic-saturated castle of Hogwarts.

On the other side of the door laid a shadowy circular room. There were no defining characteristics except for a humanoid form in the center that could just barely be made out in the darkness. Without warning, small orange flames flared into existence on what were revealed as torches on the wall, revealing the figure in detail.

Reminiscent of a medieval knight, pearly lustrous armor gleamed ominously in the torchlight. A white cape billowed in a nonexistent wind behind the form and a mirror-like great sword was clutched in the gauntlets, tip pointed to the floor. No flesh was visible, so it was uncertain whether there was actually a living human underneath all of the shining silvery metal plates.

Beside him, Aurore was shaking in fear as she stared at the armored form with wide eyes full of shock. But there was something else in her expression Harry could discern: recognition. She _knew_ whoever or whatever was in front of them and it spooked her deeply.

After a few moments, her terrified face turned calm and stoic before contorting into the perfect image of fiery rage, an expression Harry had never seen on her before. Icy baleful eyes bore down menacingly on the mysterious armored body and glowed with potent wrath. He also didn't ever expect to hear the words she uttered next.

"I will _kill_ you."

And spoken with such sheer malevolence, Harry knew that Aurore meant every word she'd just said.

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 **(A/N): So that's the ene of the longest chapter yet. Sorry about the cliffhanger (not really, though), but you'll have to wait till next chapter. What is this mysterious paladin out heroes have come across? Certainly not something from cannon, I'll tell you that much.**

 **Hasta la vista.**


	9. The Chevaliers

Chapter Nine: The Chevaliers

 **Recap: Beneath the room in the forbidden third floor corridor, Harry, Aurore, and Hermione have come across a mysterious figure donned in shining armor. Falling into an uncharacteristically heated rage, Aurore has promised to kill the strange knight-like person(?). What will happen next?**

"Aurore!" Harry barked before she did anything they'd regret in her obvious anger. "Do you know who or what this is?" He gestured to the armored form that still stood motionless before them.

"Yes," she grounded out darkly. "He is evil. He's one of _them_."

"I see." Harry replied solemnly.

"I'm sorry, one of who?" Hermione cut in tentatively.

"I'll tell you later." Harry promised absentmindedly. "It's part of something from Aurore's past, I think."

Hermione only looked more confused at that, but Harry couldn't bring himself to care. If this was indeed one of the people from whatever organization or group had held Aurore in her early childhood, then they would have to proceed with caution. He wasn't going to forget his first encounter with them all that time ago in a hurry.

"Whatever it is doesn't seem to care much about us right now." Harry observed.

"He is _l'évêque_ , an elite. They will not act unless it concerns their mission." Aurore explained, eying the 'elite' warily. "But he still hears everything we're saying and he won't forget it. I don't know why one would possibly be here, though."

"When you say 'elite', how elite are we talking?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"If it had been one of _l'évêque_ chasing me back when we first met, the outcome would have been different. That is certain." Aurore answered with a shake of her head. "Right now, I don't know who would win."

"Then I guess we have to just fight extra hard then, don't we?" Harry concluded with a small smile. " _Praesidium, Augmentum Potentia, Augmentum Velocitatus, Sensui Magis,"_ He continued to incant spells in preparation for a fight. Each of them was designed to help increase speed, strength, defense, senses, and the like.

It looked as if the armored figure was preparing for combat as well, now glowing with a flickering white aura. Aurore had power practically radiating off of her and her threads were blindingly brilliant to his eyes. Harry could see a system of threads in the enemy as well, now that he wasn't distracted by his apprentice. It was a who, not a what.

Holding their impressively sized blade in an offensive stance, the armored paladin stood motionless, clearly waiting for them to make the first move. Hermione didn't look quite as threatening, but she did have her wand out and pointed at the ironclad figure, Harry noticed.

"Hermione, please try to stay out of this fight. If you don't attack them, they will leave you alone." Harry called over his shoulder, though he wasn't sure that he was telling the truth. "You've only been learning magic for a couple weeks. Aurore and I have had years of practice in combat with magic."

Hermione nodded, looking pale-faced at the imposing form of their enemy.

"Alright, big guy, let's dance!" Harry exclaimed and shot off towards his foe at high speeds. Hermione almost face-palmed at his choice of words. Almost.

The knight-figure was ready, though, and tried to impale Harry before he could even land a blow with surprising swiftness. Just barely dodging the very sharp tip of the blade, Harry twisted aimed a kick to his torso.

" _Fulmina Crura!_ " Harry cried out. Both of his legs crackled with dancing bolts of cobalt electricity. His leg was blocked by a heavy plated arm and Harry was flipped over and forced to roll away, having lost his balance. The lightning didn't seem to have hindered his foe in the slightest.

The _l'évêque_ was unable to pursue him further; Aurore had come in with fists blazing, literally. Throwing strike after strike with flaming palms, the armored figure was barely able to block. Still, the attacks seemed to have no effect even when they hit.

Charging back into the fray, Harry decided to take a different approach, if elemental spells weren't working. He began to mutter incantations under his breath, combining several spells together to form something more deadly.

" _Sentus, Scrutantes, Duritiem, Acumen,"_

At the command of Harry's spells, huge tentacles of plant-like material burst from the ground, not too dissimilar from to the carnivorous plant from earlier. There were several distinct differences between them, though. For one thing, Harry's conjured plant was covered in long, very sharp, and harder than steel thorns. Another difference was that it had to have been at least five times larger. Thirdly, each tentacle was focused only on one task: attack the enemy.

Dozens of the herbal menaces started slashing, beating, and smacking the knight from all directions. This time, it looked like the armor was taking quite a battering. Having distracted his foe momentarily (not believing for a second that he'd won the battle), Harry prepared some more magic.

" _Obtenebro_ ," He intoned softly.

The entire room was immediately plunged into inky sable darkness. Nothing could be seen, not Aurore and not the strange paladin. Even Harry's night-vision spell was futile against it. However, Harry _was_ still able to see magical threads. For some reason, it seemed that he could always see them, no matter if it was dark or he'd closed his eyes or if they were on the opposite side of a wall. He'd always he able to see them.

It was because of this that Harry was able to instantly tell the location of both Aurore and his enemy, the difference in the size of their thread-systems was obvious. Focusing hard, Harry began to use one of his few spells that had no activation condition.

Drawing upon his own threads and intertwining them with one of the many sets of threads in the notebook under his robes, where all of his spells were kept, he slowly lifted the torches that lined the walls but were now unlit. Unfortunately, the metal torches clanked noisily against their holders, drawing both the _l'évêque_ and Aurore's attention.

Now more frantic, Harry pushed more energy into his magic and violently launched each of the torches at the heavily clad warrior, their sharp spires pointing towards their target. It was impossible to see what happened next in the dark, but Harry made a picture of how he thought it had played out from listening to the sounds.

It was obvious that even in the darkness, the _l'évêque_ was able to block at least one of the hurdling projectiles, probably more. But there were twenty torches in all and most of them had hit their mark. Realizing that his foe had almost certainly taken a huge hit, he banished the darkness his spell had inflicted on the room.

Suddenly everything became visible, although it was darker than it had been before since all of the torches had been snuffed out. The only light source came from the soft silver glare surrounding the armored figure and a reciprocating golden glow around Aurore's form.

All around, his summoned plant-tentacles laid lifelessly on the floor, but Harry could see three torches that jutted out from the armor of the _l'évêque_ in what must have been a very painful manner. Beyond that, the armor was dented and battered so much that Harry wondered if the person inside would even be able to move about properly.

It seemed that they could, as the warrior became more rigid. The soft argent lambency around their form pulsed out in a huge shockwave that knocked both Harry and Aurore off of their feet. The lambency grew into a radiance that forced Harry to squint just to look in the direction of. On the bright side, no problem with lighting (no pun intended).

Harry quickly rose to his feet along with Aurore, who drew Excalibur II from where it was hidden beneath her robes. The programmed sword started to emit its own effulgence, again showing the clashing of silver and gold auras. It was almost symbolic, in a way.

" _Brùth_ ," The paladin uttered. The voice was undoubtedly male and very deep. He held a gauntlet-covered hand in front of himself and a wave of pure kinetic force blasted outwards, tossing Harry and Aurore backwards until they slammed into a wall and Harry's world blazed with pain.

" _Tro-Lot_ " The armored warrior intoned once more. This time, the spell was visible. Silvery wisps of energy seemed to appear from thin air and whirled menacingly around his outstretched arm like an eldritch duplicate of a black hole. The eddying vortex elongated until it became strands of energy swirling into a fine point. All of this happened in about four seconds.

The swirling lance-like energy shot off at high speeds directly towards Harry's un-expecting apprentice. For a horrifying moment, Harry's heart skipped a beat, but Aurore's reflexes kicked in and she deflected the projectile with a swift parry of her blade. The spell was redirected to a nearby wall where it struck through the stone a few feet, causing it to spiderweb with cracks and small rubble to tumble to the ground. If that spell had hit either one of them, it would have killed them without doubt.

Not waiting for her enemy to strike again, Aurore dashed out with her sword poised for a diagonal slash. The clang of steel against steel rang out as the knight block the strike with his own blade. The golden and silver energy flared up and Aurore backflipped away in an unexpected show of acrobatics. Harry already had a spell on his tongue.

" _Ventus Incidio_ ," He incanted. An invisible wind sliced through the air towards the paladin silently. The barely visible distortion in the air swiftly struck him clean across the torso, cutting through his chest-plate and causing a minor laceration.

The knight stared balefully at Harry through the slits in his helmet. For the first time, he caught a glimpse of cold gray eyes belonging to the person underneath the armor. Growling in anger, he viciously removed his helmet and let it clatter to floor.

His aristocratic face was pale and angular with a forcefully stoic expression carved into it. Long, wavy black hair flowed down his head like well cared-for silk. He would have looked princely of not for the cold wrathful blue eyes that gazed out dangerously.

"Déodat," Aurore whispered unbelievingly with a quick gasp. Harry detected shock in her voice and... was that recognition?

The man turned sharply to Aurore and fixed her with a searching gaze before turning back to Harry. He snarled vengefully and charged, but his momentary distraction allowed Harry the chance to activate a spell.

" _Mollis Fulgur_ ," Harry breathed. Lightning arced from Harry's palm, aimed directly at his opponent's unprotected face, but it was dispersed with a single slash of the man's sword.

Just before he reached Harry with what would undoubtedly be a finishing blow, the doors that he'd entered through burst open and a cry of what he thought was Latin echoed through the chamber. His foe suddenly froze as if time itself had stopped, but Harry knew that wasn't it. Looking over at the doors that had just been barged through, Harry was surprised and a little frightened by who he saw: Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. And he did not look pleased.

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"I'm sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why the three of you were down beneath the third floor corridor where you were found." The headmaster began, gazing benignly at them from his office desk.

Hermione was fidgeting in excessive nervousness and shifting uncomfortably in her chair as Dumbledore spoke. Aurore appeared rather calm, most likely too distracted with thoughts of her past to feel nervous around other people. As for Harry himself, he was scanning the headmaster's (and in his eyes, a person with a high potential for an enemy, since he was an authority figure) for any hint of deception or manipulation. He couldn't find any, but that didn't mean there was none to be found.

"Well, Professor Dumbledore, it's just, you see," Hermione stumbled over her words and blushed heatedly before regaining her composure and continuing more calmly. "I was curious and I just wanted to see what was so dangerous on the third floor, so I convinced Harry and Aurore to come along as well. I didn't realize that your warning would be so... accurate."

Harry stared at Hermione in hidden surprise, though Aurore was less subtle. He was surprised that Hermione was covering up for them, they'd only met a couple of weeks ago. On another matter, he hadn't missed the way the man's eyes had twinkled especially brightly when Hermione had mentioned Aurore's name and he knew that he'd have some explaining to do later.

"So, you are telling me that you ventured down into an area expressly forbidden for the sake of a curiosity?" Dumbledore asked rhetorically. "That is a decision many would lament for its foolhardiness, my dear. However, I cannot deny that there is a certain redeemable boldness about it. I can certainly see why the sorting hat opted to place you in Gryffindor, Miss Granger."

None of them were quite sure how to respond to that and so a thick silence permeates the room, broken only by the whirring and clicking of the various instruments and devices that seemed to be placed on every available surface.

"I must impress upon you this, though." The Headmaster continued after it was clear he would receive no answer. "What you have done could very possibly have killed each of you. It is perhaps your unusual talent or unusual luck that you all survived."

"I fully accept that what we did was not the right choice to make and will be willing to accept whatever punishment you decide on." Harry lied. "However, I do have a few questions I'd like to ask, though I understand if you can't or won't answer."

"I am always open to questions from my students at Hogwarts." Dumbledore accepted.

"The person down there in the armor with the sword is not a normal wizard." Harry stated with conviction. "I was wondering where you might've stumbled across such an individual."

"You are quite observant, Harry." Dumbledore acknowledged. "Very well, I see no harm in indulging youthful curiosity. Promises keep me from revealing much to you, but there is a certain organization of people who practice a different kind of magic from what is taught at Hogwarts. I have been of some help to these people in the past and they allowed me the cooperation of one select elite among them, in return for some favors."

"I see." Harry replied tersely. "I also could not help my curiosity over one other thing: what exactly are you hiding at the end of all of those traps and challenges. What is it that you are guarding with so many defenses?"

"I'm afraid I cannot tell you that, Harry." The headmaster answered solemnly. "All I will say is that it is something that is very powerful and attractive to many people. Any further specification would delve into personal matters between myself and Mr. Nicholas Flammel."

Harry nearly growled at the exaggerated twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes. He wanted them to figure out what was hidden there on their own and he'd given them a clue to start: "Nicholas Flammel". The headmaster was playing games with him.

There was another thing as well. Dumbledore's words echoed in his mind, _I have been of some help to these people in the past..._ If the headmaster was working with the same group that Aurore had grown up with, then he was no longer a potential threat to be suspicious of. In Harry's mind, Albus Dumbledore might as well be Public Enemy #1 now.

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Having been essentially let off the hook with a promise to return to bed, Harry paced through his and Aurore's shared bedroom to try and relieve stress. It wasn't working. His greatest identified enemy yet was going to be in the same complex as him for the rest of the year, at least. And if everything he'd heard about the man was true, he would be impervious to just about everything Harry could try.

It made him seriously reconsider whether he should stay where he was or not. His biggest priority was keeping his family safe. However there were a few problems with just leaving unannounced.

For one thing, he was almost certain that there was no other place in the world where he would be able to learn what he'd learn here at the same level. The more important reason was a who rather than a what: Hermione Granger. In the short time he'd known her, the Gryffindor had began to take a place in his family where only Aurore had ever been before.

Rejected by all the other witches and wizards, she had reminded Harry of himself: an intelligent child who was scorned and dismissed for various reasons fighting against an ocean of people who would drown her in their own uncaring apathy. The similarities between them were uncanny and he felt that he could trust her for the same reason he'd felt that he could trust Aurore when he'd first met her so long ago, like there was a divine preordained law that she would never betray him.

Shaking himself of these thoughts (he had more important things to think about), he turned his attention to the main problem. Hermione was now a part of his family. He couldn't just leave her alone and friendless in an environment with Dumbledore in charge of everything. He couldn't just take her away either. She, unlike him and Aurore, probably had parents who she loved and who loved her. How was he supposed to deal with this?!

Thinking rapidly, he began to list his advantages and disadvantages, what he knew and what he suspected.

 _Advantages: I have spells and powers that Dumbledore doesn't know, even if he was somehow watching everything that happened in the chambers that are guarding whatever it is he's hiding. I have two allies, one of which is very powerful and the other of which is very intelligent. I can create more spells as long as I can figure out how to program them using my interface; Spell creation in the wizarding world is a long and complicated process that usually ends in catastrophe, according to The Origin of Magic: Fact and Speculation, by Osborn the Odd. I am famous as the Boy-Who-Lived, this can be used to turn people to my side._

 _Disadvantages: Dumbledore has power and experience in spades and people seem to believe in him religiously. I am famous as the Boy-Who-Lived, this can also be used_ against _me. Dumbledore may be able to call a large number of powerful enemies just like he had with the knight-like man from before. His intentions are a complete unknown, so I need to be ready for anything. Dumbledore has a very large amount of control._

 _Facts: Dumbledore is revered almost worshipfully by most wizards and witches here. The entire school is under his control. He is dropping hints that will be able to lead me to the knowledge of what he's guarding so fervently._

 _Suspicions: Dumbledore is in league with the people who Aurore ran away from. He has intentions for me or something involving me that will benefit him much more than me. He has powers that I will be unable to predict. He is my enemy._

 _Disadvantages outnumber advantages. Speculations outnumber known facts. Conclusion: more information is required. And right now, there is only one available source for this information._

Finally turning his focus outside of his mind and into his surroundings, Harry turned his gaze on his apprentice who was sitting curled up in bed with her head resting on her knees. _She_ was his only source of information right now. It would pain her to talk about her past, Harry knew, but he also knew that he needed every bit of information he could gain about that topic if he was to keep both himself and Aurore safe.

"Aurore," He called out softly. "I need to speak with you about something."

Aurore nodded slightly, but remained in her position, looking much frail and vulnerable than she did before when she had fought with such vehement ferocity. Now she looked almost like she had when he'd first found her and offered her food.

"I'm so sorry, I really am." He apologized for what he was about to ask of her. "But I need you to tell me about your life from before. Those people are starting to show up again and I need to know everything I can about them if we're to stand any chance of overcoming them."

Aurore didn't even look surprised. She just gave out the short sigh of someone who is resigned to doing something that they'd really rather not. And then she told him the story of her childhood.

"I cannot remember anything from before I lived as a part of _Les Chevaliers Pieux_. Perhaps I was born with them, I could not guess. I was one of hundreds of other children in _Le Projet Ouroboros_. The people there, I have told you that they are not kind, but the things they did to the children...

The goal of _Le Projet Ouroboros_ , or 'The Ouroboros Project' was to make strong warriors that would last for many years. For this, those people would need to be powerful and live for a very long time, as if someone they treated like that would ever fight for them. They did... experiments on us with their magic. They wanted to make us stronger, faster, more deadly, give us new powers and abilities. Most people did not last long. I would not have lasted long either if I never ran away.

They did not teach us how to read or other skills like that. We learned to speak only from what they said. But they did teach us about themselves. The Chevaliers is a very large group. There are many thousands of people in it. Out of these people, maybe two thousand are fighters who are trained for combat.

They told us that the Chevaliers were all people chosen by the gods to make a new world. In this world, the Chevaliers would be the only humans alive. The Chevaliers are very, what is the word? Oh yes, 'religious'. Everything they do is because of their gods.

The magic they use is powerful. You saw what Déo- what the Chevalier did. Among _l'évêque_ , the most elite of the fighters are _Les Esprits Saints_. There were only eight of them when I was last there, but I remember seeing each of them. They are strong, much stronger than anyone you've ever seen before.

When I- when I was living there, in the cells they called our rooms, there was very little hope for any of us. We all knew we would die eventually, just like everyone else was. The entire thing was insane. Some people became so... desperate that they believed everything the Chevaliers told them, that they would become warriors to serve for the good of their 'righteous' cause.

There was one person who stopped me from falling into darkness, another person who was part of the project. His name was Déodat, given to him by the Chevaliers themselves. He was older than me by a few years and he became my strength. Déodat taught me to fight against the Chevaliers and never give up. He helped me escape from there. He- he-"

Aurore broke off and started sobbing heavily as she curled up tighter. Harry sat down next to her on the bed and embraced her, sending soothing whispers through her ears. He knew this would be hard for her, but he drew no pleasure from it. Suddenly his eyes widened as he made a connection.

"Déodat- He was the one in the armor down there wasn't he?" Harry realized, remembering how Aurore had gasped that name in shock when the helmet was removed.

"That man- Those were not the eyes of the boy who told me to resist the Chevaliers!" Aurore denied vehemently. "If he is Déodat, then that boy is dead." She returned to weeping.

Harry once again focused his thoughts inward and began processing the information she'd shared with him. Every bit of it could be crucial. He began to run over her words until he finally came upon a conclusion as to how he would react to this threat.

 _Chevaliers, huh?_ Harry mused. _These are the ones who hurt Aurore, who for all intents and purposes, is my sister. These same people want to destroy every person who isn't like them, and with their strength, they might even succeed._

Finally, Harry reached his decision. _Les Chevaliers Pieux_ would learn to fear Harry's name. Like hell he was just going to let them destroy the world when he hadn't gotten to go out and see it all yet! He was going to halt them in their tracks. Permanently.

With that decided, Harry began to feel something he hadn't felt in a very long time: the desire to destroy.

 **(A/N): And that's a wrap, folks!**

 **Hope you enjoyed the chapter, ja ne.**


	10. Plans and Foundations

Chapter Ten: Plans and Foundations

 _I need power._ This was the first thought that entered Harry's mind when he started thinking of ways to deal with his huge (though thankfully not too numerous) problems. He was well aware of just how dangerous a thought it was. History textbooks and the odd fictional novel was enough to teach him that. But that didn't change the truth of the statement.

In order to fight against people like Dumbledore and a huge army full of reality-bending extremists (Ex: The Chevaliers), it was necessary to acquire some power of his own. One does not pick a fight with a dragon while carrying nothing but a toothpick, after all. That was what Harry figured it would he like if he made an offensive move on his enemies right now.

Personally, Harry didn't want a large group of loyal followers. He just wasn't a social kind of person and would probably lose quite a few of them in the long run. However, he did need at least some more people. No matter how powerful he and Aurore and Hermione (maybe Hermione) were individually, they wouldn't be able to fight an army of competent magic-users on their own.

Harry supposed that the compromise was to gather a smaller group of people who were more individually powerful (whether in magic or other areas) than most. Of course, that would he difficult to tell among pre-teen and teenage students in a school. So Harry would have to find an efficient way of locating people with higher potential.

Unfortunately, people with high potential don't display it unless they're idiots. Otherwise they become separated invisibly from everyone else, which was something most people want to avoid at almost any cost. Harry knew that firsthand. And he didn't want idiots in his little group. What he needed was a way to tempt any people with abilities that they hid to use those abilities and then record it.

But in order to do that, Harry needed to know what motivated those people beforehand. What was something that motivated all people with high potential to do something? A challenge! Everyone who knows (or believes) that they're more skilled at something than most other people will want to put that skill to the test, even if it's subconscious. Of course, there were also those people with high potential who didn't _know_ that they had high potential. Those would be harder to sniff out, but that could come later.

Harry let a sly grin cross his features that had any teachers seen, they would immediately begin to worry what terrible thing was about to befall them. Harry could be quite creative.

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Rumor had spread very quickly among the students about the 'golden room'. Nobody was quite sure exactly what it was, but there were a few key details that were clear. There was a door somewhere in the castle made entirely out of pure gold. Inside, there were all sorts of traps and dangers, but the rewards at the end were almost unimaginable.

Just about everyone from first to third year believed completely in the rumors, while the majority of those in fourth to seventh year disregarded the rumors as childish imaginations gone wild. What none of them knew was that Harry Potter had began the rumor, and purposefully too.

The point of it was rather simple. There _was_ a room with a door that looked like it was made of gold hidden in the castle. Anyone clever enough to find the door (or lucky enough to stumble upon it) and brave enough (or motivated enough by the possibility of reward) to go through them in spite of the 'dangerous traps' that were rumored to lies at the end would find themselves facing a series of increasingly difficult challenges. The system was based on the defenses he'd programmed around his house (though these were significantly less dangerous).

The entire place was covered by a camera-like spell that actually recorded everything in 3D and displayed it like a hologram. It was activated when any motion was detected inside. Altogether, it had taken Harry about a week to put it all together. Then all he'd had to do was begin the rumor.

Three weeks later, five people had made it through the door, but none of them had managed to get very far through the challenges. Later, when they told their friends the secret of how to get inside, they had found that it no longer worked at all. Not only that, but the door would move locations as well.

Harry was beginning to get impatient with his results. It both reminded him fondly of the frustration he'd felt years ago when he'd started experimenting with magic and agitated him immensely. Three weeks hadn't yielded much results at all, and that was three weeks where Dumbledore could further his plans while Harry was just sitting around and doing nothing.

Well, technically he hadn't been doing 'nothing' since he had continued to spar with Aurore and program more spells for himself, but that routine now. He was sure his plan would show more results given time, since the people who actually made it in kept the rumors about it fresh and interesting, but what could he do in the meantime?

Harry was pondering this conundrum while wandering the halls when he came across a familiar and distasteful sight. Three boys (two of which were rather generously sized) surrounded a smaller boy who looked very eager to get out of the situation he was currently in. Harry vaguely recognized the smallest of the three surrounding him as the same blonde idiot who'd gotten into a fight with someone before the sorting ceremony.

He couldn't hear exactly what words were being exchanged, but he did take notice when the two larger boys pushed the kid they were surrounding to the ground. It brought back unpleasant memories of another boy, much younger, who was always getting pushed to the ground by his cousin and surrounded by his cousin's friends.

"Stop!" Harry called before he could stop himself. It looked like it was one of those times when his voice had different intentions from his mind. Whatever anyone might say, it most certainly _wasn't_ a saving people thing.

"Oh, look, if it isn't famous little bookworm _Potter_?" The blonde (and seemingly also the ringleader of the idiot-trio) called back as he saw Harry rushing towards him. "What is it? Come here to save your stupid oaf of a friend, have you? And they say Ravenclaws are _smart_." The idiot-leader guffawed to his friends who both adopted very goldfish-like expressions.

"I wasn't here when this little incident started, but even _I_ can tell exactly what's going on." Harry began in a deceptively neutral tone.

"Oh? Then why don't you tell us, what _is_ going on?" The blonde boy interrupted.

"Two buffoons and their idiot-leader are trying to sound much more powerful than they actually are by surrounding someone who's obviously better than themselves." Harry quipped without missing a beat.

He had to admit that it was a bit childish, but sometimes he needed to indulge himself. He also wasn't sure that whoever they were bullying was 'better' than them, but it sounded like the kind of things that a group of bullies wouldn't want to hear.

"'Better'?" The blonde asked incredulously as though the mere thought of being inferior to anyone was inconceivable. "You think Longbottom is better than me, a Malfoy? Ridiculous! How were you ever sorted into Ravenclaw?"

"You seem to be in the habit of asking lots of rhetorical questions." Harry noted. "That isn't a very good habit. People might get frustrated with you. In fact, I'm feeling quite frustrated with you right now. Would you please do me a favor and remove yourself from my presence before I get even more frustrated?" Harry's tone was friendly and passive, but it seemed the idiot missed Harry's do-not-mess-with-me look.

"You half-blood little- how dare you talk to a Malfoy like that?!" He demanded angrily.

Not bothering to continue a verbal argument that obviously was never going to end, Harry instead focused on activating a silent spell. It wasn't too power-consuming. All it did was use his magical power to exert a slight pressure over a select target, causing people to feel like they're being forced to the ground and having difficulty breathing. Coupled with a good glare, it made almost anything look intimidating.

Malfoy shrank away from him alongside his two goons. Keeping a stoic facade to hide his irritation with the blonde idiot, Harry stepped forward and the clacking of his shoes echoed ominously throughout the stone corridor. Malfoy seemed to decide that a hasty retreat would be the wisest course of action and his two friends tagged along behind him.

"Sorry about them," Harry smiled apologetically. "Some people are just like that. I'm Harry."

"N-Neville Longbottom." The boy on the floor stammered. Now that he was closer, Harry could get a better analysis on him. Pudgy face, slightly overweight, nervous glances around, the kid practically screamed confidence issues. He was also a Gryffindor, according to his badge.

"Were you going somewhere, Neville?" Harry inquired. It was more for the sake of politeness than actual interest.

"I was heading to the Library." Neville mumbled the last word quietly, but Harry was still able to make it out just barely.

"Really, do you have an interest in books too, then?" Harry asked. He covered up a frown. He could've just said 'alright, enjoy yourself' and then left, but he'd continued the conversation. He wasn't actually taking an interest in this person, was he?

"Oh yes, I love books, especially the ones about herbology." Neville perked up a little when he realized Harry wasn't going to shun him for liking to read. "I just finished _Rare Plants and Fungi of the Amazon_ and I was going to return it." He brought out a thick tome that looked like it had seen better days.

"Wow, that must have a lot of pages." Harry commented.

"One thousand three hundred and twenty six." He agreed proudly. "I actually read a lot of books that long, maybe fourteen every two months. That would... eighteen thousand five hundred and sixty four."

Harry blinked. Pulling his handy _fx-7000G_ graphing calculator out of his robes (it was very necessary for his programming to have a calculator, so he ways had it on him) and punched in: 1364x14. The small pixilated screen showed 18564. What?

"What are you doing?" The Gryffindor wondered at the muggle device.

"You're right..." Harry murmured. "You're actually right."

"Err, right about what?" Neville asked confusedly.

"One thousand six hundred four times fourteen is eighteen thousand five hundred sixty four." Harry clarified. "But how could you calculate that so quickly? Is it some kind of spell?" A spell that allowed for that level of calculation was a must-have for someone like him.

"Err, no, I guess I've just always been good at numbers." The Gryffindor seemed to grow very interested in his shoes.

"Good?" Harry asked incredulously. "That's not 'good', that's- that is _genius_!"

"No one's ever said that before..." Neville trailed off uncertainly. Suddenly an idea sprang into Harry's mind. Mathematical genius was something that he was looking for but didn't even hope to find at Hogwarts...

"Neville, would you like to have a nice chat after you return that book of yours?" Harry requested with a polite smile. "There are some things I'd like to talk with you about."

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Sitting in a comfortably fluffy armchair behind a cluttered desk, Albus Dumbledore popped a lemon drop into his mouth and savored the sweet and sour taste as he pondered. The subject of his musings was none other than Harry Potter, dubbed by the public as the Boy-Who-Lived.

The headmaster knew that the young Potter did not trust him. The boy couldn't have been more obvious if he'd announced it to the entire school. Dumbledore didn't pretend to know exactly why Harry was so distrustful of him, it could have been because of bad experiences with someone who Dumbledore reminded him of, but the 'why' wasn't what he was focusing on.

What Dumbledore was focusing on was how Harry had acted during their last meeting: angry, hateful, spiteful, but all contained behind polite respect. It was disturbingly similar to how a certain boy had acted around him many years ago: specifically, Tom Marvolo Riddle. Dumbledore had considered before the possibility that the boy-Who-Lived might follow in the footsteps of the one he'd vanquished.

But then Dumbledore smiled fondly as he recalled something that separated the two quite thoroughly. Harry had been very protective of the little girl he'd introduced as 'Emily Grantz', but who apparently went by the name 'Aurore' now. He'd been defensive towards Hermione as well. As far as Dumbledore could discern (and he could discern quite a lot), it wasn't out of a sense of possessiveness, but out of companionship. In other words, love.

So long as Harry didn't stray from his companions, Dumbledore didn't think he would have to fear another Dark Lord. If only he could gain the boy's trust... Working together, they were far more likely to succeed, and success was absolutely critical. Thousands could depend on it. Somehow he had to get Harry to see that they were not enemies.

Taking another lemon drop in his mouth, the aged headmaster hummed contemplatively to himself.

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 **(A/N): Sorry the chapter was a bit short compared to the last two. I've been feeling rather sick lately and school _does_ take priority, so I didn't get a chance for much writing. I hope the eventfulness of the chapter was enough to keep you entertained, though. Next time I promise a very interesting chappy, so stay tuned.**


	11. Join the Club

Chapter Eleven: Join the Club

"Neville, this Aurore. Aurore, say hello to Neville." Harry introduced the two of them.

Unfortunately, Aurore kept herself mostly hidden behind Harry and Neville was just staring at the floor with an embarrassed look on his face. Both of them were shifting uneasily. It was like dealing with a couple of shy four-year-olds.

"Alright, this clearly isn't working." Harry muttered with a sigh of disappointment. "Why don't you two talk to each other about something? And yes, that means showing your face, Aurore. I swear, you're a completely different person around strangers."

"Err, Hello," Neville muttered and Harry rolled his eyes. The boy hadn't been this introverted when _he_ had walked up to him, though maybe that had something to do with scaring off Malfoy.

"Hi," Aurore squeaked back, still firmly planted behind Harry. It was hard to believe that this was the same person who would almost beat him every time they sparred. There was another uncomfortable silence as neither of the two made any effort to fuel the conversation. Harry held the bridge of his nose in on hand and sighed again.

"Okay, I suppose I'll just get to the point then." Harry's voice cut through the silence like a knife and just barely echoed down the corridor. "Aurore, remember that plan I talked to you about?"

She gave an affirmative nod, fretful eyes still locked on Neville.

"Well, I thought that Neville here would make a nice addition." That grabbed her attention enough for her to fix a startled gaze on him. "Well, technically not an addition, since there's nothing to add him to per se. He would be the first."

"Err, sorry, what plan?" Neville cut in with a puzzled look at the two of them.

"Before I get to that, let me just give you some background information first." Harry replied amiably, though his eyes betrayed that this topic was not a matter to be taken lightly. "Aurore and I have certain enemies, powerful enemies, that I've just learned are a lot more dangerous than I'd thought. The problem is, we can't go to any adults for help, because we know that at least one of the teachers here at Hogwarts is in league with them."

"Who?" Neville whispered, eyes widening drastically. He hadn't expected something like _that_.

"The man you'd least expect to be working with a group of super-powered magic evildoers: our very own headmaster, Albus Dumbledore." Harry answered in a hard tone.

"But- but that's not possible! Dumbledore's the greatest wizard in the world. How could he be working with dark wizards?" The Gryffindor protested in shock.

"Think for a moment, how much do you really, _truly_ know about him." Harry stopped Neville in his tracks. "Everyone always praises him like the messiah, but have you actually seen any evidence of this supposed greatness? He admitted to being friendly with our enemies who are unquestionably evil, you can trust me on that. He also has way too much power for such a benevolent and peaceful person. Ever since we've met, Dumbledore has taken an unhealthy interest in me. I just _know_ he's planning something."

"Okay, suppose that Dumbledore is... evil? What are _we_ supposed to do? We're just students!" Neville argued.

"Well, we certainly won't be relying on the teachers." Harry responded with a snort before his face turned solemn. "Adults always tell the children 'don't worry about the big problems, we'll deal with those'. How well were all the grown up witches and wizards 'dealing with problems' when Voldemort was around? Just because we're young doesn't mean we're powerless!"

The Gryffindor flinched severely at the word 'Voldemort' and Harry calmed himself down. It was something that he believed very passionately in, and sometimes it was difficult not to shout it out to the world whenever he talked about it.

Neville responded with silent contemplation, or at least it looked like he was contemplating something. If Neville was so much of a math genius, he had to at least have logic in his head, right? Unfortunately, Harry knew, irrationality that had been ingrained into one's mind since they could talk often outweighed logical reasoning. All that was left was to see which was stronger in the Gryffindor.

"I- I think I understand what you mean." Neville finally answered. "But still, fully grown wizards are a lot more powerful than students. Even if them being unable to solve a problem doesn't mean that _we_ can't, it doesn't mean that we _can_ , either."

"So you would just give up on trying something because it _might_ not work?" Harry questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Neville couldn't find a reply for that.

"Listen, just let me explain some things to you, and then you can make your decision." Harry tried to lower the tension that had slowly built up and was now almost tangible. "I'm not proposing that we start a war,"— _at least not yet_ —"but there are some effective things that we can do.

Right now, Dumbledore has hours and hours of free time to plot and plan or whatever it is he does. That's an advantage he has over us. If we can take away his planning time, then it's a stalemate until we can figure a way out of here.

The way to get this done is simple. I've overheard some teachers talking about how some pranks played by the Weasley twins, two particularly creative third years, made them so busy with sorting things out that they could barely spend enough time on teaching.

Unfortunately, simple pranks won't be enough to preoccupy his attention away from what he thinks is more important. So, the plan I've come up with is to raise hell in such a way that Dumbledore thinks he has a new and very formidable enemy.

As soon as we can convince him of that, it's a matter of putting out complicated false leads and sending on a wild goose chase. He'll be busy worrying and preparing for an enemy that doesn't exist and we'll have that planning time without having to worry about Dumbledore making a move just yet, since he'll be so preoccupied.

In order to pull some of these things off, though, we need more than two people. While Aurore and I can both use different kinds of magic from what is common here very powerfully, we have next to no knowledge when it comes to how normal wizards think and act, the way they work as a society. That's why we need _you_. As soon as I saw how good at maths you are, I knew that you had a lot of potential.

I'm not going to lie to you, Neville. This will be a carefully calculated and very dangerous game. If Dumbledore figures out what we're doing and calls on the Che- on those enemies I told you about, our lives may be put in danger.

Eventually, I do plan to be more aggressive towards those enemies for reasons that I'll tell you if you decide to join us. If you do join us, then when that time comes, I will give you the decision to choose whether you wish to stay or leave and will not fault you for your choice."

"I... really don't know what to say to that." Neville reploed dazedly after a few moments. "You've really thought this through, haven't you? I- I can't decide this right now."

"That's fine, Neville, there's no rush." Harry assured calmly, backed up by a small 'yeah' from Aurore, who had finally come out from behind him and made to join in the discussion. "The position is always open. Just know that there's going to be other people as well. I hope that eventually we'll have twenty or so. I'm not really certain how that will end up, though."

The Gryffindor didn't respond, gazing down as if deep in thought. It would come as a surprise, Harry would be deep in thought after an offer like that too.

"Before, you said 'until we can figure a way out of here'." Neville finally said, looking back up at Harry. "What do you mean?"

"That's my current goal." Harry explained without explaining, then elaborated further. "I want me and Aurore out of this castle. We could just leave, but there's a person here who's very precious to us and I'm not going to leave her here where Dumbledore might as well be all-powerful. She reminds me too much of myself when I think of how I might've turned out."

"You want to leave Hogwarts?! Why?!" Neville exclaimed. It was a testament to the enormity of his shock that the usually shy boy was so loud. Lots of people wanted to get in to Hogwarts, but nobody ever wanted to get _out_.

"Dumbledore came with all of his knowledge and power to show me just how much I could learn from Hogwarts. And like a moth to flame, I just eagerly jumped right in in spite of all of my suspicions and doubts!" Harry growled, mainly at himself. "Sorry about that, it makes me angry when I think about it.

Dumbledore's influence spans most of Europe and several other places as well, but it is at Hogwarts that he is most powerful. This is not _a_ school, this is _his_ school, and with the way everyone worships him, his authority is absolute.

That's why it's important that our little group of hell raisers needs to be comprised of students. The more people that don't trust him, the less power he has here and the more safe it becomes for us. Eventually I want to find a way to get out without leaving anyone important to me in danger. If you become my, err, comrade -man, that feels weird to say- then you will also become one of the people who are precious to me."

"I thought you were done with the speeches." Neville quipped with a small smile, though he still looked stunned by everything. "I'll come back and talk to you in a couple days. I just- I don't know how to respond to that."

Not waiting for a response, the Gryffindor hastily made his exit. When he was about thirty meters away down the corridor and just about to make a turn, he called back. "You _talk_ like an adult, you know!"

The Gryffindor scampered away and out of sight before Harry could shout back that he wasn't sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult. Slightly miffed at not getting the last word, he turned back to Aurore, who bow seemed more at ease without Neville.

"I suppose we ought to head back too." Harry stated without visible emotion.

Aurore nodded and hummed in agreement.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Neville Longbottom found, much to his distress, that sleep evaded him. There were so many questions buzzing in his head that he hardly even knew which ones to ask himself first! These people wanted to go against _Dumbledore_!

His gran had always told him how Dumbledore was a great wizard and a great man. And she'd raised him ever since he could remember. But at the same time time, he couldn't deny the logic of Harry's words, if what he said was true.

The entire thing only became more complicated when he learned quite unexpectedly that Harry was not just some random student with a vendetta against Dumbledore, but _Harry Potter_ , the savior of the wizarding world!

He'd never seen the Boy-Who-Lived up close before, as he had been certain that the famous Ravenclaw would want nothing to do with someone like him, but Neville had definitely recognized him when he came in for lunch and had nearly fainted when he'd heard Professor Flitwick address him as 'Mr. Potter'.

Who should he trust more, the savior of the wizarding world, or his gran? When it came down to it, Neville loved his grandmother. It was hard not to when she was the only person who was always present in his life. He loved her, but he didn't particularly _like_ her. She was too controlling and irritable in his opinion (though he would never say that aloud).

Harry, on the other hand, he _did_ like. There was something about the Boy-Who-Lived that just drew him, and it's not as if the person who'd defeated You-Know-Who could be so wrong, right? Then again, could Dumbledore be evil? It was all so confusing!

Imagining what could happen to the world if Dumbledore actually was evil made the boy shiver. Despite what people might've said, Neville was not in any way stupid. The effects of Albus Dumbledore turning on the world would be catastrophic. One man had the power to do all of that. He suddenly realized why Harry had been so worried about their headmaster having too much power.

 _'If you become my, err, comrade... Then you will also become one of the people who are precious to me.'_ Harry's words rang in his head like a broken record. A friend...

A few minutes later, Neville made his decision, and the seeds of great change were planted in his soul.

/-/-/-/-/-/- _wouldn't this be a great place to end the chapter?_ -/-/-/-/-/-/

In the middle of a dark and empty classroom at the late hours of the night, two twin boys with uncommonly bright orange hair began to plot, impish grins painted across their features. The interesting thing about their scheming was that they never actually spoke to each other using complete sentences. Instead, it was as if each twin could predict what the other was going to say, thusly negating the need for coherent speech.

"We found-" _the golden room_.

"Yes, but-" _people say there are traps inside_.

"Since when have we-" _ever let something like that stop us_.

"Too true, though-" _we should come prepared_.

"Indeed, dear brother, but how much-" _should we prepare for this?_

"No chances," _we go all out_.

"Tomorrow at midnight," _that's when we'll strike_.

"Agreed"

Quiet as mice, the two tiptoed out of the classroom and sneaked away and back to their dormitories. All the time, the Cheshire Cat grins never left their faces.

 **(A/N): Whew, chapter is over. I actually wasn't sure I would complete this in time, since a bunch of crazy techno-crap made me lose this chapter and also the next chapter, which I had been working on. The techno-crap was probably my fault for not saving properly or something, though...**

 **On another note, there's something else I'd like to bring up. I doubt many of you noticed, but I took down the A/N in chapter eight that was all "Dumbledore is not evil, please don't hate me!". Reading some of the comments reminded me that some people actually _like_ Evil!Dumbledore, actually a lot of people. I also realized that at this point, I'm not really sure whether I want Dumbledore to be evil or not, so it's still up in the air right now.**

 **Until next time, my beautiful readers!**


	12. Avengers Assemble!

**Happy Holidays to you all! Hope you enjoy the chapter!**

Chapter Twelve: Avengers Assemble!

"Thank you all for coming on such a short notice." A wise aged voice thanked with a slight wheeze.

"It's no problem, Albus." An old gray-haired witch clad in green velvety robes dismissed politely.

"Now, then, I'm afraid there is a very serious purpose for this emergency professors' meeting." Dumbledore began solemnly as the twinkle in his eyes diminished. "You are all aware of the very precious and rare artifact that has been kept here this year at Hogwarts. Many of you have even set powerful protections to guard it. However, I'm afraid that someone in this castle has set their sight on this artifact, and it is someone with the power to attain it."

"You can't mean-! Someone that powerful in the school?" The Potions Professor, Severus Snape exclaimed before narrowing suspicious eyes at the other Professors in the room.

"It is indeed so, Severus." The headmaster affirmed gravely. "I must ask you all to keep vigilant; look out for anything out of the ordinary. In the meantime, I will add my own touch to the wards and protections around the stone."

"We understand, Headmaster." Professor Sprout accepted with deference.

"Would it not be prudent to inform the students of this danger as well, Albus?" Professor McGonagall inquired, taking a small sip of tea.

"The students are young and inexperienced." The headmaster shook his head sadly. "There is no need to cause panic were panic is undue."

All the while, a cruel face sneered behind a tightly wrapped turban and snarked in its head. _Do your worst, Dumbledore. A muggle-loving fool like you will not be able to stop the might of Lord Voldemort! Soon, I will walk once more and you will fall before my power..._

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"I don't mind for right now, but I don't really know much about all of this. I want to be able to leave if you start going down... the wrong path." Neville Longbottom declared boldly, though Harry could see that a churning sea of uncertainty and nervousness crept just beneath the surface.

"I suppose that's all I can expect." He acquiesced with a short sigh. "You may have to wait a little while, though. Nothing big's really going to happen until later, when we have more members. For now, the position is mainly just honorary. Although, I guess we could start training you up..."

"Training me up?" The boy echoed. For several moments, only the sound of eating and the loud chatter of the crowd of students in the Great Hall could be heard.

"Yeah, like I said, Aurore and I have fought against an elite magical warrior to a standstill. You need to be combat-ready. But don't worry, we won't pound you into the dirt or anything." Harry explained with a friendly smile.

"O-Oh, I see." Neville replied quietly. "Um, well, I don't know how much of a fighter I am. It's not really my thing."

"Anyone can learn to fight, it's a necessary skill for survival. People would've died out if they couldn't fight." Harry disagreed gently. "Besides, we'll all see how good you are in battle when you're tested. I'm sure you've got some hidden talent in there somewhere."

/-/-/-/

"Wow, you have absolutely _no_ talent in fighting." Harry stated bluntly at the panting Neville, who was bent over with his hands on his knees. "This is going to be a pain."

It had taken all of two minutes for the Gryffindor boy to be completely defeated. Neville was out of shape, had a very limited repertoire of spells, and was easily distracted. He could think on his feet, though, so not all hope was lost.

"The first thing you need is to learn more spells." Harry decided. "You can't use magic the same way I can or the same way Aurore can, as far as I can tell. So you'll have to improve your wand-magic. The second thing will be fitness. You won't put up a good fight if you run out of energy after a few minutes."

Neville just panted and gasped in response, though nodding his head to show he'd heard. Yes, this really was going to be a pain.

/-/-/-/

Harry jumped slightly as a light beeping noise sounded in his ear. Then he grinned excitedly. Someone had gotten to the second stage of the 'golden room' he'd set up. This looked promising, especially when he considered that it was the middle of the night. Whoever it was, they were trying to be secretive about it and not boast to all of their friends about how they found the magical 'golden room' of treasure. Probably. They could've just been doing it at night for fun.

Taking out what looked like an ordinary, if somewhat small, panel of glass out of his trunk, Harry tapped the center of it three times in quick succession. Immediately, the transparent surface was replaced by a large string of code and four live video screens of a certain room. Two people were inside, siblings by the similarity of their orange hair, their wands drawn out.

The first part of the test was simple, just a matter of puzzle-solving, but the second part of the test was puzzle-solving while under attack by various defensive wards and artificial intelligences (essentially, magic robots). And while nothing in there was capable of truly harming them, whoever was inside would have no way of knowing that.

Harry watched the two boys (at least, he thought they were boys, going off of their short hairstyle) dodge a wave of 'deadly' steaming and hissing goo that cascaded down from the ceiling. If nothing else, watching them made for wonderful entertainment.

Afterwards came some illusory fireballs from small holes in one of the walls. These were repelled by a swift flick of the wand. While one of the brothers was combating the wide assortment of neat tricks Harry had set up, the other was working on the 'puzzle' part of the test and seemed to he making some progress too.

There were eight different hidden 'keyholes' around the room that had to be matched to their own 'keys'. Each 'key' was split into three parts and hidden around the room. The only guide for the test-taker was a long series of riddles. Of course there was also the fact that the 'keys' were scraps of paper with a complex program spell-array on them and the 'keyholes' were just invisible sensor-spells placed on random areas and couldn't be detected.

From what he could see and the data shown in the code for the entire room, they pieced together three of the 'keys' and found the first two 'keyholes' for them, impressive for just a few minutes. These guys really showed promise, at least as much as Neville if they actually passed.

Next, roughly a dozen small glowing spheres of energy, each a vibrant color, descended slowly from the ceiling. Three seconds later, they were a whipping around the room and demolishing everything in their path.

Harry had based these off of a wizard sport called Quidditch. They were like a combination of a ball called the bludger, which flew around trying to knock players out of the sky (yes, Quidditch took place in the _sky_ ) and a ball called the snitch, which flew around rapidly to avoid getting caught. All in all, it was grand display of utter chaos.

The boy who was working on finding the next keyhole was interrupted as three of the whirling balls crashed into the floor around him, breaking through the wooden floorboards which gave way to dusty stone foundations. Now they were both frantically waving their wands about and looked to be shouting some incantations (though it was difficult to tell as the video spell didn't pick up sound).

Multicolored wisps of light burst forth from their wands, but whatever spells they were using weren't quick enough to catch the energy-spheres. Some of the furniture was beginning to look like it had lost a fight against a pride of lions. This would be an effective spell in combat, Harry supposed, if he got rid of the part that made the balls harmless to anything living.

Eventually, one of the redheaded boys thrusted his wand into the air and all of the spheres froze in midair. After that, a few spells reduced the floating balls to nothing. Once again, one of the brothers went in search of the keyhole and found it in less than a minute. Whoever they were, these guys were _good_.

After a brief reprieve of peace, Harry decided to take manual control of the spell system attacking the two siblings. It would be much more fun that way. Opening up his spell interface, Harry quickly replaced the activation conditions of many of the spells so that he could use them directly.

Now in complete control, Harry summoned up a veritable army of tiny statuettes of various animals. They hadn't taken very long to make with Aurore's special kind of impossible-to-understand magic. The basic AI told them to target anything that moved around in a pattern that suggested sentience.

Many of them were also capable of shooting out sparks of electricity or small blunt projectiles. Now that Harry was in control, though, he could slave a few of them to his direct command. It was like playing a video game, only his mind and thoughts were the controller.

The ones Harry had as avatars were a lion, a bird of prey, and a snake, all capable of their own ranged attacks. Each was roughly the size of his hand. Gazing intently at the four video screens, Harry focused his will on the three figurines.

First the bird rose up alongside all of the other dozen or so animals capable of flight in perfect formation. The snake and lion, though, separated immediately and discretely from the mass of small statues charging on towards the brother who was holding off the traps.

After overcoming his surprise, the redhead waved around his wand and conjured a wall about knee-high a few feet in front of the miniature stampede, effectively barring their path. The avian statuettes, however, continued unimpeded.

Several of them launched pebble-like projectiles at both of the boys and a few shot out electrical sparks, painful but not very damaging. Harry's own bird flew straight at the brother searching for the next key, talons outstretched.

On the ground, the lion and snake had made it around the wall before it had been formed, and so unobstructed, snuck around the same boy Harry's bird was attacking and lunged for his legs. The boy, with a bird at his face and a snake and lion on each of his legs quickly shifted his focus towards self-preservation.

The lion bit deep into the boy's trousers and refused to be dislodged by any amount of shaking, and the snake slithered speedily up his leg and coiled tightly around it, restricting his movement. Meanwhile, Harry launched the bird at the boy's shoulder, but it was repelled by a frantic spell.

The other redhead, who, having taken down the flying creatures, had been focused on taking down the figurines trapped in the wall, had his attention drawn to his brother, most likely from all the noise (Harry couldn't hear anything, but even he knew that the boy under assault by his avatars had to be screaming and shouting).

A quick slashing motion of his wand severed his brother's trouser leg near the bottom, and leaving the lion holding a scrap of cloth in its mouth. Harry, quickly commanded the snake to slide up to the boy's torso and bind his arms, while the bird came back and attacked the other brother alongside the lion.

Two blasting curses later, and Harry only had one avatar left. Another spell from the redhead that had reduced two of his avatars to jagged bits of rock forcibly uncoiled the snake from around his brother, who quickly blasted it into stone fragments. The rest of the small animal statuettes were disposed of in a similar manner.

Harry grinned. It looked like he would have two new candidates before the night was through.

After half an hour of setting off traps and sending various spells after the two brothers, Harry saw for the first time the completion of the second section of the test. Deciding to forgo the third part of the test (he'd seen enough), Harry activated one last spell. It would transmit his voice into the room, giving it an echoey distortion for dramatic effect as well.

"Greetings, young wizards." Harry uttered, with a strange feeling of amusement at his own theatrics. "Your worth has been seen in the face of great trials. Reward shall be bestowed unto you both. Tread forth to the tower of the raven at the third our past noon on the seventh day of the tenth month to meet your prize."

After what appeared to be a few moments of discussion, the two boys left the room wearing large, triumphant grins. Harry held a similar expression. The tracking spell was already tied to both of their magic thread systems.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"So you're saying that Professor Dumbledore has hidden motives?" Hermione gasped. "What do you mean?"

"Listen, Hermione," Harry began softly, looking around to ensure nobody else was near them in the library. "Dumbledore is the head of the Wizengamot, essentially both the judicial and legislative branch of the ministry. He's also the head of the International Confederation of Wizards, which can make and enforce laws all across the world.

If that isn't enough, he's had absolute authority over every generation of English witches and wizards in their youth for the past forty years. Regardless of whether he defeated a dark lord, power corrupts. And Dumbledore has far, far too much power."

"I- I guess I understand what you're saying, Harry, but still..." Hermione trailed off uncertainly.

"Like I said before, he's working with people that want to destroy the world. You saw what just one of them was capable of underneath the third floor." Harry continued. "He admitted it to me himself without realizing that I knew who those people were. If things are left the way they are, then _billions_ of people are going to die. They want to wipe out everyone that isn't one of them, and they have the power to do it! I told you about my opinion on what children are capable of and you agreed with it. Right now, you need to make a choice."

"You're right, Harry." She agreed, eyes hardening. There was a reason she had been placed into Gryffindor, it seemed. "They need to be stopped. I'll help you however I can."

Harry gave a sigh of relief as the tension in his body vanished. It had been a stressful few days, going out and convincing people to join his cause and he hadn't even approached the twins yet. That would wait until October Seventh- the random date he'd chosen for them.

"Alright, then I guess I should go over some of the specifics with you." Harry said finally. "But not here, it's too public. Meet me on the seventh floor by the astronomy tower in half an hour. I'll get Aurore and Neville to come as well."

"Okay, I'll be there." Hermione whispered back.

/-/-/-/

"Now that all four of us are here, I suppose we can begin." Harry took a deep breath. "So far I've told you all that Dumbledore was working with 'a group of dark wizards' but nothing more than that. So now I'm going to start explaining exactly who these 'dark wizards' are.

You've both met Aurore before, but neither of you know very much about her past. She's given me permission to tell you about it, and once you hear, you'll realize just how brave of her that was.

Aurore is actually French, though it's difficult to tell with how she's lost her accent. Her earliest memories have ways been from when she was among a group of people called _Les Chevaliers Pieux_. Or more precisely, when she was among the people in their dungeons.

 _Les Chevaliers Pieux_ have thousands of members, though many of them don't specialize in combat. They are religious in the extreme, and anything is justifiable if done in the name of their gods. This includes horrific experimentation on children to produce an army of magical super-soldiers.

Aurore was one such child, who escaped before they killed her with their experiments. From what she tells me, the entire project wasn't going well as almost everyone ended up dying, but we don't know whether they succeeded in the end or not.

The eventual goal of the Chevaliers is to destroy everyone that isn't one of them, supposedly to usher in a new 'golden age' of the gods or something like that. This wouldn't be too much of a problem if they weren't so damn _powerful!_

Aurore and I are both very powerful for our age, probably more powerful than the average adult wizard. I use a kind of magic that allows for a wide variety of combat based spells. Aurore's magic is so diverse that she doesn't even _need_ spells. In spite of that, one elite warrior from the Chevaliers was enough to beat us to a stalemate and I don't know who would've come out on top if there hadn't been interference.

We can't fight an army by ourselves, which is why I brought you two in on this. Eventually, I hope to have a lot more than just four. I designed this group with the intention of taking down the Chevaliers. For now, we'll be more focused on Dumbledore, since he's the closest huge threat. There are two others that I'm hoping to bring in as well in a couple weeks. After that, we'll begin our first operation."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/ _October 31, 1991_ -/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Harry glanced at the five other people surrounding him as his nerves began to jump with excitement. He had to forcefully calm himself, remembering every step of the plan. Each person had their role. It was impossible to tell how any of them were feeling; dark hooded cloaks concealed every aspect of them including their faces. Not even the bright red hair of the Weasley twins shone through.

Ah, the Weasley twins- they had been quite difficult to convince, having believed for years that Albus Dumbledore was the incarnation of Merlin. They had also been rather disappointed when they weren't showered with riches when they fame to Ravenclaw Tower.

At first they had thought that Harry was playing a practical joke on them and claimed that they were proud of him, but once they had realized he was serious, their joking facade had been ripped off and replaced with a calculative pair of highly intelligent boys. Apparently, the bit that convinced them was Severus Snape, the Potions Professor. Supposedly, anyone who could hire the 'old bat' couldn't be entirely good. They'd told him such a few days later when they gave their answer.

Snapping out of his musings, Harry slammed his open palm into the large round table they were all seated around, drawing attention from every member of his group.

"You all know the plan, and how critical it is." Harry began, his voice distorted beyond recognition by the same spell he'd used when he'd spoken to the twins in the 'golden room' for the first time. "This will be the first of many actions we carry out to protect the ignorant people across the world. Begin Operation!"

 **(A/N): So that's that. I'm sure most of you were expecting everything that happened in this chapter to happen, so no huge surprises. Next chapter, I promise, will be more juicy. Enjoy Winter Break!**

 **-Fasiah**


	13. The Herald of Oblivion

Chapter Thirteen: The Herald of Oblivion

The doors to the Great Hall slammed open with a loud bang, instantly silencing all chatter as everyone's attention was drawn to the now open doorway. Slowly, five figures adorned in long flowing sable robes strode silently in, cloaks swishing and hoods obscuring their features. All that could be seen from beneath the hoods were two burning red orbs that radiated an aura of malice.

At the head of the staff's table, Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore rose from his seat, wand clutched and pressed tightly against his sleeve, and a neutral expression painted carefully across his face. The headmaster's eyes swept over each of the five, calculating.

"I do not remember offering an invitation to any distinguished individuals like yourselves." Dumbledore announced, causing nervous whispers to break out all round, though his tone was amiable. "Clearly, I must have forgotten, for any who are not allowed onto Hogwarts' Grounds would find themselves repelled by the castle's wards."

From underneath his hood at the head of the five figures, Harry Potter smirked, though none would be able to see it. So this was how the old man wanted to play it? That was just fine by him. He raised a hand -spelled to look pale and bony- and the torches and candles that lit the hall dimmed to embers. He silently thanked the Aurore for that little show trick.

"We do not come by invitation." Harry's distorted voice echoed ominously throughout the darkened hall, icy tone halting all voices. "We, who have lived only in the shadows of this world's raging magic, come now to remind the descendants of the _magoi_ of old that which has been eroded from their minds by the endless sanding of time.

In the first age, there was chaos and nothingness. Then came darkness and light, and with it, life and death. Across countless eternities, the heavens and worlds developed and evolved. The cycle of life and death must now come to a close; this is the will of the chaos and nothingness.

On this holy day, we bear this prophecy to you, a foretelling absolute."

As one, five eerily distorted voices rang out like an eldritch cry. "We are the Herald of Oblivion, who shall bring unto this universe the forgotten era of the void. Nothing will return to nothing. The stars will vanish. Life will perish. _Silence_ will fall." The word 'silence' was hissed dangerously.

A shockwave of pure force blasted outward from beneath Harry's feet, cracking the stone directly around him and ruffling the all of the tablecloths. Dumbledore clutched his wand tighter, prepared to unleash a slew of spells at a moment's notice.

 _You've got forty seconds to wrap things up. Professor Quirrel's coming over and he looks like the hounds of hell are at his feet._ The soft whisper of Hermione's voice sounded by his left ear.

 _Like the hounds of hell are at his feet?_ Harry thought rapidly. _What is it that he's running from? Never mind, I'll find out later._

"For you, Albus Dumbledore, we have but one thing to say: watch your footsteps." Harry warned. "Oh, and I hope you enjoy our presents, if you can find them before they destroy you. _Jubare Ingens_!"

A sudden blinding effulgence radiated out from the five cloaked figures, forcing their audience to avert their eyes. When the light died down down, all that was left was a ghostly crimson image of a grinning skull with a scythe behind it, before that too faded into the air. Nobody noticed that the Ravenclaw table now had two more people sitting down nor that the Gryffindor table had an extra three.

Hushed whispers broke out all across the student tables. The torches and candles returned to their former level of luminosity. Not ten seconds later, the purple robed form of Professor Quirrel burst through the open doorway and into the hall, looking indeed as if the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels.

"Troll! In the dungeons!" He shrieked fearfully. "Thought you ought to know..." He then collapsed in an undignified and unconscious heap at the floor. Harry blinked. What?

Instantly, screams sounded loudly, mostly from the younger students, and pandemonium swiftly cascaded through the hall. All around, students began to scramble from their seats as the various prefects all tried in vain to gain any ounce of control over the chaos.

"Silence!" Dumbledore's voice boomed out and swept across the panicked students, silencing them and halting them all in their tracks. "Prefects, organize the students and lead them to their dormitories. All staff will follow me to the dungeons." He ordered in a much calmer tone.

Eyes widened in surprise, Harry activated a spell and whispered softly "disperse from the rest of the students at the soonest opportunity and come together at our designated meeting point. Activate invisibility if necessary." Harry knew the words would be received by the other four members of his group in the hall and Hermione, who was still outside in lookout position. This was unexpected.

/-/-/-/

"There's a troll in the school?!" Hermione shrieked before she was collectively shushed by the five other Hogwarts students seated around the circular table where they all sat. She had the decency to blush at her loud comment.

"Yes, there's a troll in the castle." Harry repeated. "What I'm wondering is who let it in; they could become a real problem. Nevertheless, Dumbledore is probably going to assume that the Herald of Oblivion let it in, what with our little 'enjoy our presents' shtick, giving them more credence as an actual threat, which was the entire point of the plan. So in the end, I guess this only works to our advantage."

"But what about the person who actually let the troll in?" Neville asked nervously. "If they did that, then who knows what else they'll do?"

"We'll just have to be ready for that when the time comes." Harry concluded with a small sigh. He hated waiting without knowing what was going to happen next.

"W-What are we going to do about the troll now, though?" Neville stammered, giving a nervous smile.

"Nothing," Harry responded, shaking his head slowly. "The troll is being dealt with by the Professors, there's no need to interfere. Nobody is in any real danger from it."

"But if nobody's getting clobbered with a giant club-"

"-then why did our mystery man let a troll in?" The twins wondered, pretending to stroke long beards sagely.

"Distraction," Hermione answered before Harry could get a word in. "Whoever let the troll in has the entire school's attention on it, so they could do whatever they wanted while avoiding notice, right?"

"Yes, I agree." Harry corroborated. "But then that leads to the question of what it is exactly that 'our mystery man', as Fred and George so eloquently put it, hopes to achieve while everyone's distracted."

"Wait a minute," Aurore's light voice interrupted everyone's thoughts. She shifted uneasily as five pairs of eyes focused on her. "What about the third floor? What if they want what's hidden there?"

"That's a real possibility." Harry mused. "In fact, it's the most likely possibility I can think of. Good thinking, Aurore." She smiled happily at his praise.

"So if someone is sneaking into the third floor-"

"-Should we perhaps use this chance to catch them in the act?" The twins proposed, both grinning madly.

"That's actually not a bad idea." Harry considered. "Alright, all those in favor of checking out the third floor corridor for suspicious people?"

Five out of six hand raised and Neville blushed in embarrassment. He was the only one who hadn't raised his hand. Now all eyes were on him.

"Neville, do you propose we do something else?" Harry asked and arched a brow.

"Well, we don't really have much of a plan for this, right? What if we get caught when everyone's supposed to be up in the dorms?" Neville asked worriedly.

"We won't go dressed as the Herald of Oblivion. If anyone asks, we're just a group of first year students who got separated from the rest of our year-mates and got lost." Harry said, shrugging his shoulders. "Though, that might not work for the twins."

"We have enough experience-"

"-making excuses, so-"

"-you don't need to worry about us." They assured him, eyes sparkling in mischief. Harry sighed, those two were a handful and then some.

"Alright, then are there any other objections?" Harry asked, gazing intently at each person seated at their improvised meeting table. "Okay, it's decided: we go to the third floor corridor now. We'll improvise a plan on the way."

/-/-/-/

"Target is in sight, over." Fred or possibly George Weasley's voice sounded close to his ear.

"Target has been confirmed as a greasy prick, over." The other Weasley chimed in.

"This isn't a spy movie!" Hermione hissed, the sound also coming through the private communication spell. "What they mean is that Professor Snape is heading towards the room."

"We're waiting here under invisibility. We'll be ready." Aurore responded, seemingly having entered what Harry called her 'serious mode', probably assisted by the fact that Harry was the only other person in the room with her.

"Wait a minute, Professor Quirrel's coming too, from the opposite direction." Hermione alerted. "It looks like he's going to get there first."

"Copy that." Harry responded, smiling slightly.

"Not you too, Harry." Hermione moaned. "How do the twins even know about muggle spying stereotypes? You can't even pronounce 'telephone' properly."

"Trade secret, my dear." One of the twins replied. Harry could easily envision the mischievous grins that the two undoubtedly bore.

"Quirrel is in." Aurore reported, more for the others as Harry was right beside her, equally invisible.

Indeed, Professor Quirrel had just opened the door and walked through, attracting the attention of the three-headed dog that had just been peacefully snoring moments ago. Six eyes glared in hostility at the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Harry shuddered slightly, glad that the scent-removing spell he'd worked on for a few days after the fiasco under the third floor corridor had been successful.

All three jaws opened wide as the cerberus lunged at the professor, snapping shut loudly around the space where he'd just been moments before. Unfortunately, Professor Snape entered at that exact moment, resulting in one of the heads focusing solely on him. A second and a half later, a cry of pain was released from the Potions Master's lips as long canines bit into his leg. Quirrel stared in shock at Snape, just barely moving in time to avoid getting his head bitten off.

Snape quickly grabbed Quirrel's robes and roughly dragged the man out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The cerberus, clearly displeased at having lost its pray, launched itself at the door, all three heads barking loudly. It would probably take a while for it to calm down.

"They're both out. Oh my god, it looks like Professor Snape's about to attack him!" Neville exclaimed.

"He has Quirrel backed against the wall at wand-point." Hermione relayed. "But he hasn't made a move yet. I think Professor Snape is threatening him, but I can't hear what they're saying from here."

"Our Defense professor looks-"

"-like he's about to have kittens." The twins added helpfully.

"Snape's backed off, but he doesn't look very pleased." Hermione continued after a long pause. "They're both leaving in the same direction now."

"Alright, we'll have to wait until our furry friend here calms down a mite." Harry replied. "He's currently blocking the only exit."

"Rodger that, Captain." The twins chimed simultaneously. Hermione was strangely silent for the next few moments.

"So what do you think was happening?" Neville broke the silence.

"I think Quirrel came here to get whatever's hidden, but Snape came to stop him." Harry concluded. "At least, that's what it looks like from how he dragged him out and what you described."

"But... Professor Quirrel?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"Yes," Harry responded. "Somehow, I don't think our Defense professor is half as harmless as he acts."

"That-that makes so much sense!" Hermione blurted. "I mean, really, would we ever suspect _Professor Quirrel_ of all people if we hadn't seen him just now?"

"I think we should keep a closer eye on him." Harry spoke his thoughts aloud. "I honestly have no idea what this is going to lead to."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

 _You fool! I am very disappointed in you, Quirrel. You have failed me._ A voice hissed from the back of the Defense professor's head.

"S-sorry, my lord." Quirrel mumbled out pitifully.

 _You will have to learn to do better, Quirrel._ The voice warned dangerously. Pain exploded in the professor's head to accompany the statement. Clutching his head in affliction, he whimpered helplessly.

"Y-yes, my lord." He stammered. The Dark Lord was not pleased.

Meanwhile, up in a circular office full of small whirring devices that spoke much of its owner's eccentricities, Headmaster Dumbledore paced around his desk, thinking furiously. This Halloween had been an absolute disaster!

 _Just who are these 'Herald of Oblivion'? And why have I never heard of any such people before?_ He wondered. However, he hadn't managed to become the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards without keeping his wits about him. He was a master at drawing inferences from just a small amount of information, usually correct inferences as well.

 _These 'Herald of Oblivion' have made it quite clear exactly what they think of me. They also mentioned some 'presents' that I should find before they 'destroy me'. The troll was proof enough that these people are very serious. But how did they ever manage to break into the castle?! Even if they somehow found a way around the many defenses out into place, the wards should have at least alerted him that there were more people inside the castle._ The headmaster sat down in the comfortably cushy chair behind his desk and placed his brow in his hands. _And to top it all off, the whole school knows as well. There's no chance of trying to dismiss this as a practical joke, either, is there?_

Sighing in resignation, the aged man began to put together some plans to counteract this blatant threat to his students' safety. He would have to deal with this swiftly if he didn't want this new group to evolve from a worrying annoyance to a powerful enemy. The first step was finding those 'presents'.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Harry gave a sigh of satisfaction as he plopped onto his bed. Aurore, it seemed, had already fallen asleep. Halloween had gone perfectly. He'd twisted Dumbledore's beard into knots and discovered a new possible ally or enemy, which regardless of whether their existence would be convenient, would be better to know about than not.

He'd already placed a few clues around the school for Dumbledore to find, eventually leading him in pointless circles. At the way things were going, he might even have been able to get to the second phase of his Anti-Dumbledore plan by Christmas. Of course, that meant that he'd actually have to develop a 'second phase', but a little obstacle like that wouldn't be enough to spoil his good mood. He'd had victory!

Smiling contentedly, Harry slowly drifted into a peaceful slumber. The next day, of course, was when things started to get _really_ confusing.

 **(A/N): So chapter thirteen is here, nice and eventful. Hope you all enjoyed.**

 **There used to be a note here that I wouldn't be able to see any of your reviews. However, as usual, the staff of this wonderful archive have dealt with this problem in a timely manner. I am now able to read all of your much appreciated reviews. Until next time!**

 **-Fasiah**


	14. An Unexpected Interference

Chapter Fourteen: An Unexpected Interference

Still basking in residual feelings of elation from the previous night, it was in a very good mood that Harry strode into the Great Hall for breakfast and plopped cheerfully down into a chair at the Ravenclaw table. A pleasant smile was etched on his visage, usually a mask of thoughtful passivity.

Aurore, as per usual, was seated beside him at the end of the table so no one else would sit next to her, looking generally uneasy at the crowd and chatter but not nearly so much as when they'd first arrived. They both gathered an identical breakfast of eggs and toast with jam on their plates, neither speaking, but more due to contentedness rather than any awkwardness.

Their peaceful eating was interrupted when none other than their most _favorite_ professor, Albus Dumbledore, as he stood behind his podium at the head of the Hall and raised his hands up to quiet the chattering of the students. Within seconds, silence reigned as everyone's rapt attention was pinned on the headmaster.

"I am sure that many of you are curious," Dumbledore began in a strong, projected voice. "as to a certain event that transpired last night and interrupted our Halloween feast. You were all here when Professor Quirrel came in with his warning.

"There was, indeed, a mountain troll wandering within the castle walls." –indistinct murmurs swept through the Hall– "However, due to the timeliness of our Defense Professor's alert, no students or staff members were harmed and the troll was able to be dealt with securely.

"However, I must impress upon you all that a troll does not merely wander into a castle as heavily warded as Hogwarts by happenstance. It is my suspicion, as well, I am sure, as some of my colleagues, that the troll was allowed intentionally into the school." -The murmurs rose noticably in volume-

"Therefore, under the possibility that whomever let in the troll did so with sinister intent, several new temporary rules have been added for the continued safety of Hogwarts' students.

"Firstly, all students must travel in groups of two or more in the corridors at all times. Remember, all of you: there is power in numbers and in companionship. Secondly, a curfew will be put into place from nine o'clock in the evenings until seven o'clock in the mornings.

"I am certain there are many of you who are displeased by this turn of events. For that, I offer my deepest apologies. Even still, I must reiterate that these new rules are for the wellbeing of our students. Enjoy the rest of your breakfast."

With that, Dumbledore casually stepped down from the podium and returned to his seat at the middle of the staff table. Harry frowned, his pleasant mood slightly curbed. He had expected _some_ kind of reaction from Dumbledore after the spectacle from the previous night, but Harry didn't much care for the idea of a curfew; it would make it more difficult to appear innocent if he needed to operate during the night and was unexpectedly noticed.

Still, Harry allowed himself a smile. That Dumbledore had enforced these new rules meant that he was daunted by the ever mysterious 'Herald of Oblivion', exactly as he'd planned. The troll had been a godsend, truly, reinforcing the fallacy that they were a powerful and highly dangerous threat.

Of course, Harry was ecstatic to find nearly every student from first years to seventh years discussing the Herald of Oblivion throughout the day. The rumor mill was working overtime, spitting out theories both ludicrous and plausible at an excessive rate. They ranged from the Herald of Oblivion being a secret reorganization of the old Death Eaters from a decade ago to giant conspiracies usually involving Vampires and sometimes aliens (Harry was certain it was a muggleborn that had brought _that_ into discussion).

Aside from a slightly more apprehensive atmosphere than was usual, the rest of the day continued without a hitch. Harry once had to stop himself from giggling in the corridors when he imagined himself sitting in a black leather swivel chair stroking a white cat and murmuring to himself about how 'everything is going according to plan'. Perhaps he could have a future career in villainy?

Either way, even with the restrictions of the new rules, Harry was satisfied with the results of the last night. It would just be dinner and then off to bed, after plotting more schemes, of course. He sighed happily after swallowing the last morsel of delicious chicken. Life was good. Precisely seven seconds after that thought entered his mind, absolutely everything went to hell.

The doors to the Great Hall burst open with a loud, resonating slam, and six figures in dark cloaks that obscured all of their features strode in with such finesse that it seemed as if they were gliding. Everyone stared at them in shocked silence. Harry experienced a strange sense of déjà vu.

Suddenly, a scream pierced through the air and all of the staff members swiftly rose and trained their wands on the six figures. Many students followed suit. Finally, realization dawned on him, and his eyes widened in recognition. These were the cloaks that they'd used to disguise themselves as the Herald of Oblivion- the exact same cloaks! But how?! Every member of his group was in the hall with right now!

Not only were the cloaks exactly the same as the ones he'd gathered, but the height of each person was exactly right for the six of them, even for Hermione, who hadn't been in the hall at all. There was simply no way that this could be a prank pulled by some group of idiots amidst all of the craze surrounding Harry's fake little 'organization'. For the life of him, though, he wasn't able to come up with any theories. Certainly, it had to be some form of magic, but _what_?

The lead figure revealed a plain wooden stave from within his cloak (Harry assumed it was a 'him', since they were impersonating _his_ role). The narrow bottom of the staff hit the stone floor with an uncannily loud tap that echoed around the room. It was enough to set off one jumpy student, who fired a nasty yellow hex straight at the head figure.

The spell ricocheted off of an invisible shield, but many more quickly followed from other students. A barrage of multicolored hexes and curses cascaded over the six, but all were deflected by the same invisible barrier that had stopped the first spell.

The teachers, it seemed, were trying desperately attempting to regain control of the situation. However, not even Dumbledore, who had calmed the entire student body with a single word the night before, was gaining much in the way of results. Harry himself merely observed the pandemonium and discreetly activated a few enhancement and defense spells in the event that he'd need them. Aurore was nearly shaking at the sheer chaos around her, looking ready to bolt away in an instant.

Harry had to say that he was impressed by the strength of whatever defensive spell these six had. His own shields would hold for maybe five seconds against such an onslaught. The amount of energy required would have to be colossal. Were they producing that energy by _themselves_?

Slowly, Harry's impersonator lifted his staff up into the air and smashed into the floor with a booming thud. The stone rippled beneath everyone's feet, though it seemed not to affect the six. Raising the staff once more, the imposter began to speak.

"We return!" He called out in the same distorted voice that Harry knew his spell would give him. "Come now, have we, to bear you another challenge! Come now, have we, to deliver this portent.

" _Deep in these walls, behind doors of gold,_

 _lies hidden great power, great yet uncontrolled._

 _For inside, is there magic, most dark and forbade;_

 _If found not in time, then death shall pervade._

 _If seek'th the one who of this place, is enlightened,_

 _We apologize so, for you are certainly frightened._

 _Know that for you only, does treasure await,_

 _But attain it not, and your failure is fate._

 _Now back to you wizards, who in ignorance dwell,_

 _Search thoroughly an quickly, before sound'th your knell._ "

In a flash of brilliant radiance, the six cloaked figures vanished, leaving not only the ghastly crimson image of a grinning skull, but the rhyme not-Harry had given was also carved into the floor where they'd just stood. And those words didn't fade into the air like the skull.

Harry's mind was awhirl with rapidly dashing thoughts that churned almost violently in his head. If the troll last night had been a surprising, then this was flabbergasting! First, people masquerading as the Herald of Oblivion that _he'd_ created barged in and waved off an assault by several hundred students off like it was nothing. Then they made an even bigger spectacle than he'd arranged the previous night! And as if that wasn't enough, they gave a cryptic death threat in the form of a bloody poem!

It was those rhyming words that kept playing through his mind as he analyzed them expeditiously. Most of it was threatening the teachers to find something or else 'death would pervade'. However, it seemed to break in the middle to address someone else, who knew where whatever the teachers had to find was hidden.

The poem seemed less hostile to this person, given the apology, and promised 'treasure' that this person had to get or else 'their failure was fate'. However, it was the first line that really had Harry thinking, 'Deep in these walls, behind doors of gold'. If this was where Harry thought it was...

"Calm yourselves, all of you!" The headmaster ordered in a loud and authoritative tone, though it was not forceful or aggressive. "All students, please remain within the Great Hall with Professors Sinistra, Sprout, Hooch, Babbling, and Kettleburn. All other staff, follow me while we outside."

Harry turned his head to Aurore, who actually _was_ shaking now. She looked terrified and confused, a perfect representation of the emotions rampaging through him, though it was less apparent on his visage.

"Aurore," he murmured. "I need you to calm down. We're safe. Listen. There's no danger here. Nothing's going to hurt you. You're going to be alright."

Slowly, Harry's apprentice stopped shaking and took some deep breaths, though her eyes still flitted around the room in search of any threats like an animal that knew it was being hunted. He placed a gentle hand on a shoulder and stared unflinchingly into her eyes. She gave a barely perceptible nod and returned his gaze.

"We can't stay here, though." Harry continued. "I don't know who those people are, pretending to be the Herald of Oblivion, but there's something I think I understand from what they said. Dumbledore and the teachers are out looking for something like their lives depend on it. We need to find it before they do, and I think I know where it is."

"Okay," Aurore accepted, eager to leave the bustle of the Hall even if it meant doing some sneaking.

He grasped her wrist lightly and muttered an activation word. Seconds later, he was completely invisible. Aurore closed her eyes and furrowed her eyebrows in concentration. Soon, she was unseen as well. It was fortunate that everyone was too focused on babbling with each other or panicking

Leading Aurore by her wrist, Harry raced towards the languidly closing doors. Breaking through to the outside of the Great Hall just in time before the doors snapped shut behind them, Harry made a sharp left turn, half dragging his roommate behind him.

Harry silently cursed Hogwarts for being so entropic in design. Another left and three rights led Harry to a small staircase that in turn led to the mass of moving staircases that stretched from the first floor to the seventh. Dashing up the flight of stairs directly before him, Harry came up on the sixth floor. He'd have to go down two floors now.

Scurrying around the castle like a frightened squirrel, Harry finally found his way onto the fourth floor after what felt like half an hour but was probably only five minutes. Once there, it was only a few more twists through the corridors and Harry stopped abruptly next to a seemingly plain wall of stone brick.

Placing his palm on the wall and pushing with a little force, Harry watched unsurprised as a door that looked to be made of gold slid into existence- the ever elusive 'golden room' he'd created as a recruiting method.

Once he and Aurore were both inside, Harry dispelled his invisibility and watched her do the same. Both of them were panting, not having ceased in their absconding for nearly ten minutes. Even out of breath, Harry scanned the room intently, looking for something out of place.

"What's that?" Aurore asked between breaths, pointing to a rather out of place wooden trunk sitting atop the grand piano in the corner. He wasn't sure why he hadn't noticed it earlier.

Ambling on somewhat shaky legs to the peculiar trunk, Harry released Aurore's wrist, focused raptly on the 'treasure' before him. _He_ certainly hadn't placed it there, after all. Unfastening the clasp, Harry opened the trunk and peered warily inside.

He took out the first item that caught his eye, a folded letter without an envelope labeled ' _To Harry Potter'_ in a rushed scrawl. Harry unfolded the parchment and let his eyes flit over the words before they widened dramatically and he sent a doubtful look back into the trunk. He gawked in stupefaction. _This is impossible..._

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore stood tentatively with his wand pointed at a door that was covered in some kind of gold metallic paint-like substance, flanked on either side by Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape, both of whom had their own wands also trained on the door.

" _Alohamora_ " Dumbledore incanted. The door slowly creaked open.

The three professors inspected the dimly lit room within, cautious eyes scrutinizing every inch. Dumbledore took several wary steps into the room, prepared for a number of curses to afflict him any second. When no such curses were attracted, he beckoned the other two to follow him in.

The room was rather small plain, just a wooden floor and stone walls. There were no paintings or windows to add decoration. The only furniture was a desk in the center of the room with four candles providing light and a piece of parchment sitting atop it.

Dumbledore approached the desk with his wand pointed towards it. Peering down at the parchment, the headmaster speedily read through all of the lines. The penmanship was uncommonly sloppy, as if the writer has been hurrying when they had written it. Fortunately, Dumbledore had decades of experience reading barely legible essays from his students before he'd became headmaster.

 _To: Dumbledore_

 _Congratulations, you found the danger! Good on you! Now, here's the good part: the danger is fake. Thank you for frolicking around the castle like frightened rabbits so that we could go and continue our evil plans while all of you were distracted. :)_

 _Catch you again later,_

 _The Herald of Oblivion_

 _P.S. How long did it take for you to grow your beard that long?!_

Dumbledore carefully picked up the piece of parchment and stuffed it into his robes. He turned back to the other teachers, who were looking apprehensively and curiously at him. The headmaster let out a deep suffering sigh, as only an old man whose beard was insulted can.

"Let us return to our students at the Great Hall." Dumbledore announced, surprising the other professors immensely. "The danger has passed."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Beneath the Ravenclaw Tower, Harry sat shifting through some papers- papers, not parchments. They were filled with research notes and diagrams and ideas. Turning back to the letter, Harry stared once again it the messily scribbled words.

 _Not much time- danger everywhere- use the notes- do not trust Quirrel- hide the items in your dorm- I am a Magic Programmer like you. Act quickly!_

So much information was condensed in those words, and yet for every question it answered, it raised a hundred more. Harry looked over at Aurore, sitting on her bed with a relieved expression. She had been just as puzzled as him when he'd shown her the letter.

What did they mean they were a Magic Programmer like him? He was the only one in existence, unless one counted his apprentice. He'd literally invented the idea of Magic Programming, so there was no way someone he didn't know about could have ever learned about it. Unless Aurore was giving privet lessons that someone, it was impossible, and that was about as likely as him creating clones of all of his group members and then forcing himself to forget about it somehow with magic.

And what did they mean by 'danger everywhere'? What kind of danger? Then there was also that part about not trusting Professor Quirrel. Did they know that he'd found the professor sneaking into the forbidden third floor corridor? How?

If all that wasn't enough, then there was the notes, notes that proved that person indeed was a Magic Programmer. They were very detailed and used terminology that he'd invented. The ideas and notes on how to make those ideas into reality showed an even greater comprehension of Magic Programming than _he_ had. There were even things he'd tried and failed to create himself. Magical batteries? Teleportation by ripping holes in the fabric of reality?

When Harry finally settled down into a calmer state, there was one prevalent thought in him. _What the hell is going on?!_

 **(A/N): I hope you enjoyed all of the action in this one! This chapter was supposed to leave you reeling, so if you're confused, then don't worry, all will be explained next chapter. Or possibly the one after that. Anyways, stay tuned, and feel free to leave your own theories for what happened in the reviews.**

 **Hasta la vista,**

 **-Fasiah**

 **P.S. Chapter One has been almost completely rewritten, so feel free to look back at that. It's much better now.**


	15. We are Legion!

(A/N): I am so, so sorry for updating this late. Thankfully, it's still the weekend (sorta, if you're American), so it's only a couple days later than my usual Saturday update. I'm thankful that nobody left a comment along the lines of "why did you abandon this story? I was liking it so much!", because then I would feel more bad about this than I do now. Please forgive me.

 **Recap: Harry finds mysterious papers that appear to be research notes on Magic Programming, something that should be impossible. Even more disturbing are the people who led him there, uncannily accurate imposters of the Herald of Oblivion that he created.**

Chapter Fifteen: We are Legion!

There were several possible theories that came to Harry later that night about what had happened just a few hours earlier. They ranged from improbable to ludicrous, actually, they were all ludicrous, but Harry had for a long time been of the opinion that nothing was wholly impossible.

The first idea was that all of the information about his little group had been somehow leaked to another source. Harry thought it unlikely, though, as anyone important (A.K.A. anyone with the resources to pull that stunt off) was likely to disregard them once learning that they were all first years at Hogwarts. Of course, the twins were wizard-raised and the newest addition to his little order; he didn't know much about their motives... No, there was also the matter of the Magic Programming research notes that surpassed what he had discovered.

The next theory was that Harry had planned this event out and created either clones or a very realistic projection (neither of which he could create to his knowledge) to carry out that plan at a specific time before erasing his memories of the entire ordeal (another thing that he could not accomplish with his magic). Would that mean that he'd created the notes as well?

The third conclusion was that, through unknown methods, a version of his group from some alternate universe or timeline had hitched a ride into his universe. All three of those ideas were equally implausible, but it was the best that he could devise.

That being said, Harry estimated about a two percent chance that the answer was one of the theories he'd came up with and a ninety eight percent chance that the truth was something that he hadn't yet thought of. Altogether, the entire thing was driving him nearly mad.

 _I just need to sleep on this._ Harry assured himself, trying to quell his rising agitation. Unfortunately, though, sleep did not find Harry very easily, due to his rampaging emotions. He emerged from his bed the next morning with undefined but very present dark circles under his eyes.

/-/-/-/

"Well, we all know why we're here." Harry began, stifling a yawn and forcing his eyes open. The other five members of the group nodded, showing various degrees of worry and perhaps a bit of frustration as well.

"That much is obvious." Hermione agreed. "Last night was..." she trailed off uncertainly.

"A group of six people came in, dressed as the Herald of Oblivion, and gave Dumbledore a warning that the school was going to be destroyed if he couldn't stop it." Harry summarized. "In the form of a poem." he added.

"Well, whoever these mysterious-"

"-imposters are, they certainly have down-"

"-the proper amount of theatrics." the twins concluded with simultaneous nods of approval.

"Yes, they were very authentic." Harry agreed dryly. "Now, I'm not sure if any of you noticed, but in addition to the costumes, each of those six 'imposters' have heights that correspond to a specific person in our group. This includes Hermione, who was not present during our operation two nights ago."

"But how is that even possible?" Neville wondered in bemusement. "And even if someone somehow knew that it was us, why bother going through the effort of pulling off something like that?"

"Those are fair points that I've asked myself as well." Harry replied.

"So what's your answer to those questions?" Hermione inquired with an expectant and almost eager look at him.

"My conclusion is..." Harry paused as if considering something before resuming. "...I haven't the foggiest. I really have absolutely no idea what the hell is going on."

"Somehow I imagined you'd say something more satisfying." Hermione deadpanned.

"I have, however, come across some _very_ confusing clues that will hopefully help with figuring out exactly what happened." Harry continued, ignoring the Gryffindor's comment.

"Clues?" Neville echoed, his brows furrowing.

Harry took out a piece of paper from his robe's pocket and placed it down onto the center of the table. It was covered in intricately overlapping geometric designs, like a blueprint to a very complex piece of machinery. With three snaps of his fingers in quick succession, a floating window not dissimilar to his programming interface burst into life above the paper and began to lazily rotate.

Every member looked at the screen in befuddled astonishment. Even Aurore looked mildly surprised. Harry knew that she'd never seen a spell quite like it before, nor had any of the others. On the holographic screen, familiar eerie words stared down at every person seated around the meeting table:

 _Deep in these walls, behind doors of gold,_

 _lies hidden great power, great yet uncontrolled._

 _For inside, is there magic, most dark and forbade;_

 _If found not in time, then death shall pervade._

 _If seek'th the one who of this place, is enlightened,_

 _We apologize so, for you are certainly frightened._

 _Know that for you only, does treasure await,_

 _But attain it not, and your failure is fate._

 _Now back to you wizards, who in ignorance dwell,_

 _Search thoroughly an quickly, before sound'th your knell._

"Look familiar?" Harry asked rhetorically. "So, when I first heard this, what really caught my attention was two things. The first was when it said 'deep in these walls behind doors of gold'. The second was the part where it shifts focus onto another person, someone who knows where the location it talked about is. It promised 'treasure' if that person could find it, but threatened that they would be doomed to failure if they didn't."

"And?" Hermione prompted when he paused.

"And I thought that person might be me." Harry responded. "It turns out I was correct. You all know about the 'golden room', right?"

"Of course, it was, after all-"

"-a very enjoyable challenge-"

"-to such havoc-wreakers as ourselves." The twins vigorously nodded their affirmative.

"Yes, we all know about the recruitment place you set up." Hermione said, her tone showing just how much she approved of it. "Wait a minute, 'behind doors of gold'..."

"Exactly," Harry beamed. "So Aurore and I left the Hall to head over to the 'golden room' under invisibility. I found an interesting trunk with a large stack of papers- real, proper papers, mind you, not parchment- that contained something impossible inside."

"What do you mean 'impossible'?" Hermione questioned hesitantly.

"They were research notes on Magic Programming." he revealed.

"Isn't that the special kind of magic you invented?" Neville asked curiously.

"It is," Harry affirmed. "There shouldn't be anybody except for me and Aurore who should know the first thing about Magic Programming. However, these notes extend beyond what I know. The projection spell right here is something I worked on creating last night. The instructions for it were in those notes. Without them, it would've taken weeks to design."

"So what do we do now-"

"-that we have a group of-"

"-mysterious imposters and-"

"-a strange collection of parchments?" The twins inquired.

"Papers, Gred," one of them corrected.

"My apologies, my handsome brother, I wasn't thinking." the other replied.

"To answer Fred and George's question," Harry cut in loudly. "I would like to see what I can make of those notes and see where it leads me. Until then, there's not much we can do if they don't make another appearance."

"I see." Hermione responded tersely, narrowed eyes displaying her displeasure at the lack of any solid plan.

"Is there anything else any of you would like to say?" Harry asked, suppressing another yawn and fighting the urge to rub his eyes.

"Yes," Neville answered meekly, and continued when Harry motioned for him to carry on. "I've been thinking about this for a while now. I think we should have a name."

"A name?" Hermione echoed.

"I agree." A tiny voice spoke up, tiny but firm. It was Aurore. It hadn't taken long for Neville, Hermione, and the twins to grow used to her lack of participation when it came to talking, so her speech was startling. "We should have a name."

"Why do you think so, Aurore?" Harry inquired curiously.

"All of the important groups have names, 'The Death Eaters', 'The Ministry of Magic', a-and 'Les Chevaliers Pieux'." she replied. "If we will become important, we should have a name."

"Well said," Harry approved with a small smile. "Are there any objections?" Not a sound breeched the silence.

"Then what's the name going to be?" Hermione asked.

"It should be something that represents who we are." Neville answered quickly. "You know, like why we're in the group in the first place."

"Well, we're not here as a peaceful society." Harry mused. "In fact, the entire point of this is to stand up and _be_ aggressive. We want people to know that we have power, but not that we'll use it to frighten people. It should be something that means that."

"Perhaps we should name ourselves-"

"-The Incredible Brilliant Amazing Stupendous-"

"-Super Anti-Evil Fighting Squad of Heroes." The twins offered.

"Vetoed," Harry declared in a deadpan the instant the two finished speaking. "Anyone else have some ideas?"

"Hmm, maybe something like 'The Dark Repulsers'." Hermione suggested.

"Maybe," Harry considered. "a bit pretentious, though, kind of like 'The Herald of Oblivion'."

"Well what would _you_ suggest?" Hermione huffed.

"Something more like 'the people who choose to fight' or something like that." Harry contemplated.

"The Legion," Neville coined.

"The Legion of what?" Hermione questioned.

"Nothing, just 'The Legion'." Neville replied. "Never mind, it was a stupid idea." Harry regarded the Gryffindor boy before giving a barely perceptible nod.

"'We are Legion; we are many'. It represents joining together for a common goal." Harry quickly analyzed. "I like it."

"It's obviously not as great-"

"-as our brilliant name, but-"

"-we suppose it is acceptable-"

"-for a group amazing enough to have us in it." The twins accepted.

"I guess it works." Hermione conceded, shooting Neville a slight grin.

"What do you think, Aurore?" Harry probed questioningly.

She paused for a moment before an uncharacteristically fierce expression overtook her visage and declared, "They will not know what hit them."

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"You didn't tell them about the letter." Aurore noted, munching softly on a slice of bread with butter.

"No, I didn't." Harry agreed before taking a large swig of pumpkin juice, a wizarding drink that was far tastier than its name implied.

"Why?" She asked uninterestedly.

"I don't trust all of them too much yet." Harry shrugged, carefully maintaining his aloofness.

"Really?" She seemed surprised. "Then why ask them to join at all?"

"No matter who I picked, I wouldn't trust them at first. That's just how I am." Harry explained. "However, the fact still remains that we needed more people than just the two of us if we're going to interfere with major world powers. Eventually, we might grow some more trust, but right now, the only one that I would share any really sensitive information with is Hermione. The rest are wizard-raised, and I just don't know enough about them."

"Hmm," Aurore hummed in understanding.

"Everyone here seems rather nervous." Harry observed, trying to change the topic.

"The last two dinners were interrupted by the Herald of Oblivion." Aurore stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, which it really was. "Everyone thinks they're going to come in tonight too."

"Maybe they will." Harry supposed. "Our group of 'imposters' might come again tonight."

Aurore chose not to respond, and all further conversation was halted until the end of the meal as the two continued to eat. Fortunately or unfortunately, no disturbances disrupted the Hall that night.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

 _Declaring that one entity exists in a location where it is not present does not allow for a programmed spell to use teleportation for unknown reasons. Furthermore, declaring that an entity will move to a specified location will cause the entity to be physically transported, also not allowing teleportation. From this data, it is a reasonable conclusion that appearing instantly in another area is not functionally possible._

 _However, the principle behind teleportation is fast transportation that doesn't require moving across a great amount of physical space. Instead of forcing an entity closer towards a location, why not force the location closer to the entity? Past research has shown that time and space are malleable enough to be manipulated to at least some extent._

 _The_ _central idea would be to bend space to such a degree that the entity's destination and current location almost occupy the same place simultaneously. Theoretically, this would not effect anything in the space between the destination and the current location. "The quickest path is a straight line." The principle would be to bend that line so that the two ends touch._

 _Most important question: what programming or runes would be required to bend space in such a manner?_

Harry eagerly devoured the words on the notes in front of him. Whoever had written them clearly possessed more than a rudimentary understanding of science, something he had yet to come across in the wizarding world. Of course, to be a Magic Programmer inherently required scientific knowledge, and the writer of those notes was obviously very much a Magic Programmer like the letter claimed.

Unfortunately, the notes didn't seem to provide an answer to that question, so Harry would have to do his own research in the library about any wizarding spells that manipulated space or time. Until then, he resolved to find something he could work on now.

 _The Excalibur II is an excellent example of how Magic Programming can be used to enhance basic objects to function much more efficiently than normal. A sword exists for the sole function of injuring or killing living things, and Excalibur II allows for a much higher rate of inflicting damage._

 _The creation of 'wards' that centralize around a specific object, while not enhancing the object itself, can still be considered part of the same category of Magic Programming. Due to the amount of possible effects this 'category' could potentially procure, I have decided to give it an official name. Any Magic Programming piece that directly effects a preexisting object is now to be referred to as Code Enchantments._

 _On top of creating highly powerful weaponry, Code Enchantments could also be used on more benign objects to give it less benign effects. Could I create a key capable of unlocking anything? Could I Code Enchant a pair of glasses to give perfect three hundred sixty degree vision in a sphere? Can Code Enchantments be used on living organisms?_

 _The important thing to realize about Code Enchantments is that, regardless of what the subject of the enchantment is, it will require a source of magical energy to function. Excalibur II relies on the magic of its wielder, and a ward has been designed that ties into the natural magical energy of an entire forest. Without a source of energy, Code Enchantments are completely useless._

 _Previous attempts at creating a magical battery have failed utterly as nothing seems to be able to contain magical energy except for living beings and enchanted objects. Theoretically, there should be some way to convert another type of energy into magical energy, as all energy is capable of changing form, but it is uncertain how. No spells or natural phenomena seem capable of causing a reaction that converts something into magical energy, except for the unexplainable process in which living creatures can produce magical energy._

 _Furthermore, utilizing existing magical energy from an external source would be dangerous to that which it is extracted from if not extracted in incredibly minute amounts, as in the ward powered by the forest. If an object can be given a source of magical energy like the ward, can that collected energy then be stored into another object like a charging station?_

 _Post Experiment Conclusion: It is possible, if the 'battery' is enchanted to he able to store and transfer the magical energy. However, the charging station must remain relatively stationary. As the distance from an enchanted object and its source if energy increases, the amount of energy it receives decreases._

Harry nearly shook with excitement at the prospect of actually having working magical batteries. Limits of how much energy a spell could safely have would be infinitely looser. Once again, though, it was not something he would be able to work with at night in his room.

Reluctantly placing the stack of papers back into the trunk they came from, Harry laid back down on his bed and closed his eyes. He had a feeling that things were going to continue in that pattern if he kept looking at the notes. Besides, his time keeping spell informed him that it was eleven thirty at night and he was tired. Tomorrow was a Saturday, so time would be no problem in researching at the library. Maybe he could even get some help from Hermione, since she loved books so much.

 _It's been one hell of a past few days._ was Harry's last coherent thought before darkness overtook him.

(A/N): Just to try and make it up to any of you who were disappointed at my lack of update until now, I'll offer a little sneak peak at the next chapter.

 _Chapter Sixteen: Causality Can Go Flux Itself_

 _"What do you mean 'you only come back for thirteen minutes'?!" Harry demanded frustratedly. "There is no possible way you wrote all of those programming notes in thirteen minutes!"_

 _WM_

 _"You-Know-Who is still around?!" Neville stared at him in absolute shock._

 _WM_

 _Harry glanced nervously at the six menacing figures approaching him and stood in front of Aurore protectively, seven different spells on the tip of his tongue. The lead figure raised a hand and Harry slowly sank to the ground as blackness engulfed his vision._


	16. Causality can go Flux Itself

**As of now, this chapter is a revised and edited version of what was previously uploaded. I was honestly very surprised by how little error there was in this to fix. So if you've already read this chapter, you probably won't notice much difference in it. For all of those new people, though, I hope you enjoy!**

Chapter Sixteen: Causality can go Flux Itself

A soft groan escaped Harry's lips as he was thrown rather violently at the ground with a painful thud. On the up side, the spell had worked! On the down side, if he kept it like this, he'd need a hospital visit after every time he used it. Oh, yes, those were ribs. Now they were fragments of ribs.

Aurore ran over frantically and tried to help him up, but a quick wave of his arm halted her. Though her magic was capable of just about anything imaginable (as long as enough power was put into it), healing was one of the few areas where it was lacking. For some reason, any attempt to heal anything beyond cuts and scrapes always resulted in magnifying the problem tenfold.

Due to this, Harry found himself lying in the Hospital Wing of the castle, and (through a fit of extreme effort) not crossing his arms and glaring like a petulant child. It was very tempting, though, he had to admit. The local healer was a middle aged woman who dressed like a nun, except that all her clothes were a starch white. Supposedly, that was the magical equivalent of a lab coat.

Spending the next four hours lying in bed while his bones melded back together was not his idea of an ideally spent afternoon, especially on a Sunday. Admittedly, he had known that the prototype teleportation spell might have failed explosively, but not _that_ explosively. Perhaps he should have known that prancing through a bend in the fabric of space was bound to bite him some way or another.

Either way, what was important was that the entire rest of the day was effectively wasted and classes would start up again tomorrow. He'd only completed half of his assignments too, not that he was particularly concerned with scoring good grades. Honestly, he was mostly just disappointed by how spectacularly his spell had failed.

After triple checking every single component of the program with painstaking detail, he was sure that nothing could possibly be wrong with it. Was it just the inherent nature of space to react that way when something tried to move around it? Or was it possible some unknown variable had affected the execution of the spell? It didn't matter for now because he was still stuck in the castle's thrice-damned infirmary!

Sighing deeply to relieve tension, Harry slowly relaxed himself into the admittedly comfortable mattress he was currently placed on. Instead of mentally ranting about how unlucky his situation was, what could he do here that was actually productive? Harry let out another sigh as nothing crossed his mind.

The chances of someone walking in and spotting him was too great for him to do anything conspicuous that he didn't have an excuse ready for, something like opening up his programming interface, for example. All of his notes were left back in his dormitory, so he couldn't just leaf through those, even if he could have claimed that it was all just study material.

Thus, he was resigned to lying impatiently and waiting for his bones to mend. With all the power of magic at their disposal and centuries of accumulated knowledge, one would think that some schmuck would have figured a way to fix broken bones in an instant. Then again, he supposed it was better to have to wait for them to heal than to have them heal improperly but quickly.

To save himself from the mind numbing boredom that was only enhanced by the dullness of the Hospital Wing, Harry distracted himself with thoughts about what might happen soon, if the message he'd received was correct, that is.

 _My fellow Magic Programmer,_

 _It pleases me greatly that you seem to have taken the notes I have accrued from my endeavors of research. I'm certain the presence of a master of Magic Programming other than yourself has caused you no small amount of grief. The circumstances involving me are quite unusual._

 _Therefore, to assuage your worries and to answer what questions you may have, I would like to meet with you personally. Unfortunately, I will be unable to receive any response you leave for me, so I shall assume that my desire to see you is mutual. I cannot promise that the manner in which I arrive will be discreet, nor can I provide a specific time or date in which I shall come. Please expect me some time within the next one to eight weeks._

 _Sincerely, L_

Naturally, he had been both discomfited and excited to find the message scrawled out on a thin sheet of paper lying neatly on his bed, not to mention surprised. And, of course, he had to roll his eyes at the signature. The mysteriousness of it was almost cliché. Then again, so was the dramatic speech he'd prepared for The Herald of Oblivion, so he shouldn't really accuse someone of being cliché.

Until the mysterious Magic Programmer made his 'indiscreet' entrance, Harry was left to imagine how the encounter would turn out. So far, it seemed that this 'L' considered Harry as a friend, or at the very least not an enemy. But what exactly would they want to discuss? Would they want to exchange what they knew about Magic Programming? But if that was the case, then why just leave the research notes?

Shaking his head to clear it of his rapidly churning thoughts, Harry once more forced himself to repose in the bed. Still stuck in the Hospital Wing. He closed his eyes and let his emotions dissolve into numbness.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Looking back, Harry supposed he should have realized that something like this would happen. As it were, he took pride in the fact that he didn't panic himself into dysfunction. 'Freezing up' was what most people called the phenomenon.

It all started in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, right under the nose of Professor Quirrel. Harry was more focused on his own thoughts, really, than whatever topic the seemingly pathetic professor was stuttering on about. It wasn't as if he would actually learn anything if he did bother to listen in, anyways. He still pretended to take notes alongside his fellow Ravenclaws, of course, but it little more than a discombobulating arrangement of words to amuse himself with. Most people would likely begin to doubt his sanity, were they to read it.

He had just finished writing about how the American Brigade of Dyslexic Elephant Robots (A.B.D.E.R. for short) was the source of all the world's problems when the ceiling collapsed in an avalanche of giant stone bricks, sending up large clouds of dust. Covering his eyes with one hand, all Harry could discern was that someone was coughing, not surprising considering all of the dirt in the air.

"How interesting..." A familiar distorted voice trailed off with an underlying tone of amusement. The words 'I cannot promise that the manner in which I arrive will be discreet' flashed through Harry's mind.

As the dust began to clear away, six figures adorned in equally familiar black hooded cloaks were revealed, standing tall and proud. A scream rang out from somewhere behind Harry and Professor Quirrel collapsed in an undignified heap. Some students fled as swiftly as they could out the door, but most simply froze and stared at 'The Herald of Oblivion' in terrified anticipation.

Harry himself, though quite surprised by the sudden appearance of the infuriatingly mysterious imposters, was proud to say that he was collected enough to focus on logical and productive thoughts. For instance, he was able to bring Aurore to his side and put her and himself under a shielding spell, just in case.

"Hmm, this won't do." The distorted voice rang out once again. "No, this won't do at all. _Praefuscus_ ,"

An eldritch darkness seeped out from the sable cloak like the creeping approach of a starless night. Malaise gripped Harry firmly and rooted him to the ground as he stared at the oozing shadows. He still wasn't going to attack them, though, not if they wanted to ally with him. However, that didn't mean he wouldn't be prepared.

Harry glanced nervously at the six menacing figures approaching him and stood in front of Aurore protectively, seven different spells on the tip of his tongue. The lead figure raised a hand and Harry slowly sank to the ground as blackness engulfed his vision.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

An electric shock snapped through Harry's body, forcing him awake with a start. His eyes scrunched at the harsh light that seemed to permeate wherever he was. After a few seconds for his eyes to adjust, Harry began to observe his surroundings.

The stone brick walls and the lifeless torches mounted on them told him that it was somewhere in Hogwarts, at least. He was sitting on some kind of cushioned sofa with a small and plain wooden table in front of him. The floor was covered in a thick woolly gray carpet. A fireplace crackled away to his left, but the main source of light came from a magically floating orb of white lambency too bright to look directly at, perched just a few centimeters below the ceiling like a miniature sun.

"Ah, hello, there." A cheerful voice greeted nicely. Apparently, he was not alone.

"Where am I?! Where is Aurore?! Why did-" Harry immediately broke off as he turned his head in the direction that the voice came from and came face to face with... himself? Harry narrowed his eyes at the double of himself. No, it wasn't exact, there was a small scar across his cheek from some kind of cut and he was a few inches taller, but otherwise the two looked identical. "What..."

"Aurore's fine." Not-Harry answered. "She's in your dorm, sleeping. As for where you are, welcome to Hogwarts' unused room number forty seven."

"Who are you?" Harry choked out. Was this some kind of magical disguise? He guessed it was possible, but why disguise themselves as _him_ of all people.

"Oh, of course, where are my manners today?" Not-Harry asked rhetorically. "I'm Harry Potter. It's nice to meet you, Harry Potter. The other five were just illusions, so you don't need to worry about them."

"What do you mean you're Harry Potter?" Harry forcefully kept himself from shouting and continued in a level tone.

"I mean what I say." Not-Harry replied simply. "To be more precise, I'm twelve-year-old Harry Potter."

"But I'm only-"

"-eleven." He finished. "I know. However, _I_ am twelve."

"But-" Harry was cut off.

"Just wait a minute and let me explain. We don't have much time." Not-Harry interrupted. "I'm sure you've gone over the teleportation theory, right? You've been trying to get teleportation down for years. Hypothetically, by bending space so that two points are right next to each other, you can move almost instantly from one point in space to another point in space. Tell me, have you ever considered doing the same thing with time?"

"Err, I was a bit more focused on getting it to work in space..." Harry trailed off. "So, are you saying that you're a time-traveling me from the future?"

"In a manner, you could say that. Technically, I'm a copy of future-you because the actual future-you can't go backwards in time like that." Not-Harry explained. "Thirteen minutes after coming here, everything that was physically sent back will deteriorate into nothingness. Anything that actually affects this world will have to be the result of an action that affects something or someone that already exists here in the past."

"Thirteen minutes?" Harry echoed.

"Yes, everything that was sent back will disappear in roughly thirteen minutes." Not-Harry repeated calmly. Finally, Harry lost his calmness as shock, disbelief, and an inexplicable ardor erupted with fury.

"What do you mean 'you only come back for thirteen minutes'?!" Harry demanded frustratedly. "There is no possible way you wrote all of those programming notes in thirteen minutes!"

"Those notes were carried over in the programming interface as information and then conjured while in the past. The physical existence of those papers has only ever been present in your time." Not-Harry explained coolly.

"Why are you here?" Harry asked suddenly, trying and failing to suppress all of the churning emotions in his head. "I know me. I wouldn't come this far back in time even if I could unless something drastic happened."

"You're right, of course." Not-Harry agreed. "Something drastic did happen. I'm here to make sure that it doesn't happen again. But now I only have six more minutes to pass on what I know."

"Then what do you have to say to me?" Harry asked as anticipation built inside him.

"Now that we can get to the important part, the first thing you need to know is not to trust Quirrel." Not-Harry began.

"You said that in the letter, but _why_ can't I trust him?" Harry questioned.

"You are familiar with a man who calls himself Lord Voldemort, yes? Supposedly, we vanquished him at the age of one and a half. However, like we suspected, he wasn't very vanquished. In fact, he's currently living on the back of Professor Quirrel's head as some kind of wraith-spirit-of-darkness or something like that." he continued. "Voldemort is even more powerful than the history books make him sound. He could probably take out an entire platoon of the l'evéque on the third floor by himself, not to mention all the followers he'll amass."

"Okay, so stuttering old Professor Quirrel is host to the lord of all evil." Harry tried to wrap his mind around that idea. "Anything _else_ I should know? Any information about people I already know about, like the Chevaliers or Dumbledore?"

"I can't tell you anything important about Dumbledore that you don't already know." Not-Harry shook his head sadly. "I can, however, tell you some things about the Chevaliers. Even if Voldemort does come to power, they will eventually come and destroy him and his forces, though at a great cost to themselves. This absolutely _must not happen_. A war between Voldemort and the Chevaliers will wreak havoc on the world like you've never seen.

"The Chevaliers are going to operate as a secret organization until sometime next year. When they reveal themselves to the public, it will be when they are at full power. If you want to hit them hard enough to do some damage, it will have to be before then."

"Can you give me a date, at least?" Harry pleaded. "I need something more than just that."

"I'm sorry, there isn't much more I can-" Not-Harry was cut off as by a painful looking spasm that ripped through his body. "Damn, entropy's already at that level. Listen carefully, I can't tell you more right now, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to come back again. There are messages hidden in the programming; you just need to search for-"

Harry blinked. Not-Harry wasn't there anymore. Raising a hand to his chest, Harry tried to calm his rapidly beating heart, but the adrenaline was still pumping through his veins.

" _Epistulae_ : Come to the meeting room as soon as possible; this is an absolute emergency!" Harry hissed. Within a few seconds, the message would be passed on to the rest of the Legion. A sudden thought passed through Harry's mind, 'Sincerely, L'. Legion, indeed.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"What's the matter, Harry? What's wrong?" Hermione asked in alarm, bursting through the door. She was the last to arrive.

"Come sit down." Harry ordered, gesturing to the circular table where all of the other members of Legion were seated. She complied without question.

"Now that we're all here, I can explain why I sent that urgent message to you all." Harry began, taking a deep breath. "I just met with the person who left me the programming notes. He came rather suddenly in the middle of Defense Class. In fact, I imagine Dumbledore will make an announcement about it soon. Anyways, he sort of kidnapped me to one of the many empty rooms in Hogwarts and we had a nice chat."

"What do you mean by 'a nice chat'?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

"I'm getting there, be patient." Harry assured. "He claimed that he was me from the future, and as much as I can't believe I'm saying this, I'm inclined to believe him. He told me a lot of things that are too risky to just ignore even if the possibility of them being true is slim."

"What kind of things?" Neville hesitantly asked.

"The major one is that the 'Dark Lord' called Voldemort that I supposedly defeated as a baby isn't actually as defeated as people claim."

"You-Know-Who is still around?!" Neville stared at him in absolute shock.

"He is." Harry confirmed. "At least, that's what future-me said. He also specified exactly where he's hiding: on the back of Professor Quirrel's head. Therefore, if the back if his head doesn't have the lord of all evil sticking out of it, he wasn't telling the truth."

"But, Harry the laws of time-" Hermione's protest was cut off as Harry slammed his fist into the table with a spell-magnified boom.

"Forget the laws of time! If he's right, then almost everyone in the world is going to die in just a few years! Like hell, I'm just going to accept that!" Harry shouted, before continuing in a quieter voice. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled."

"It's fine." She dismissed, though her expression said otherwise.

"Our next mission needs to be a way to confirm that information," Harry went on. "so we're going to try and knock Professor Quirrel's turban off his head. This needs to be done quickly and preferably in front of lots of other people, just in case he really is holding Voldemort. If the information is true, then we won't have very much time to act on it."

"What exactly did he tell you?" Hermione inquired with narrowed eyes.

"I don't want to bother you with it unless I _know_ for certain that it's the truth." Harry shook his head. "For now, we just need to focus on confirming or denying that."

"I think we may have-"

"-an idea that should work-"

"-if we're just trying to knock-"

"-the cloth off his head." The twins chimed together, devious grins appearing on their faces. Suddenly, Harry had a bad feeling about whatever they were planning. A bad feeling for Professor Quirrel, though, not himself. Those twins were dangerous.

"Why don't you tell us all of this great plan?" Harry asked, a small smirk coming to his own face. "Your faces are giving me the best kind of bad feeling..."


	17. Tainted Reprieve

Chapter Seventeen: Tainted Reprieve

Students from first year to seventh year were pushing past each other in a fruitless attempt to get quickly out of the crowded main hallway within a reasonable amount of time. The number of seventh years was drastically lower than those in their first year, most having found alternative paths to their destinations by then. Several teachers could also be seen shifting through the mass of students, mostly to ensure that some idiot didn't start a riot with all of those people their.

The main hallway was always uncomfortably full at four o'clock in the afternoon, since classes ended only fifteen minutes earlier for all years (temporarily, of course). Out of the seven teachers settled among the children, one of them was Professor Quirrel, who looked skittish as usual, surrounded by the students.

" _This is Harry, leader of Operation: Unmasking._ " Harry murmured quietly into his hands, knowing his voice would carry over to the rest of The Legion. " _Begin operation_."

" _Sure thing, Leader Harry_." The twins' hearty reply sounded in his mind.

" _Ready_ ," — Hermione.

" _Okay_ ," — Aurore.

" _Right_ ," — Neville. That was everyone.

A loud and obnoxious noise blasted out from the center of the wide corridor, it took Harry a second to recognize it as the blare of a trumpet. Actually, make that several trumpets. There were eight of them, floating in the air and honking out a parody of a fanfare. The crowd stopped and looked around in confusion, trying to spot the source of the noise.

"Make way!"

"Make way!" Two nearly identical voices called out pompously. It was unmistakably Fred and George. "Make way for the great Queen Norris!"

Students began to frantically clear a path as an entire _chariot_ , complete with two proud white horses pulling it along, rolled into the crowd. It was formed from a pale wood and intricately decorated with golden tassels and streamers. Manning the reins, the first Weasley twin had a look of spontaneous joy on his face.

The expression was mirrored by his brother, who held up the cat belonging to Filch, the caretaker, above his head like a trophy. The cat seemed oddly at ease with its situation, most likely due to the twins having 'sedated' it (though they refused to tell exactly how, much to Hermione's distaste).

"It's one thing to plan it out," Harry muttered to himself, in slight awe of the sheer dumb randomness of the spectacle before him. "but it's another thing to actually watch it happen with your own eyes."

A sudden glowing halo appeared around the feline, bathing the room in a golden resplendence. A heavenly chorus began to resonate throughout the area, seemingly out of nowhere. It looked like Hermione had done her part.

"Her Majesty, Queen Norris of Hogwarts doth henceforth declare: all students shall receive free anti-homework passes!" The twin holding up Mrs. Norris proclaimed loudly. A flurry of parchment slips was blown through the air by an invisible gust. That would be Neville and Aurore.

The students changed from looking on in perturbed surprise to cheering loudly as more and more slips of parchment fluttered around and eventually found their way into the hands of one adolescent or another. They each read 'Turn in for Excuse of Homework' in a cheerful orange ink. Soon, the breezes strengthened into powerful mistrals. It was among all of these random bursts of wind that Harry would play his part.

" _Ventalus Fortium_ ," he whispered.

A tightly compressed miniature tempest, only half a foot in diameter, began to gather in Harry's open palm. The enormous mental strain that would usually come with forming magic of that nature was handled entirely by the programming in the spell. The only thing requiring his attention and concentration in the spell was directing the tight ball of gales at whatever target he had in mind. In this case, the back of Professor Quirrel's head.

Harry scanned the Defense Professor and the people between him and Harry. Plotting out a trajectory in his mind, he loosed the churning ball of violent winds from his hands and set it on a course straight for Quirrel's turban.

With everyone's robes flapping about in the magically conjured winds, nobody was particularly shocked when the purple cloth wrapped around the Defense Professor's hair came loose from a sudden gust of wind, even if it was a rather turbulent one. Harry sucked in a breath as adrenaline pumped through his veins like a rampaging beast.

Professor Quirrel was bald, not even a small gray buzz of hair on his pale, shiny head. The man in question looked shocked and terrified when the turban tumbled to the floor in a heap, though that may have been due to any number of things, given his edgy nature.

The breath he had sucked in was released in a relieved sigh as he scrutinized the back of the man's head. There was no sign of anything other than plain skin, no Dark Lord or anything else out of place. The person who claimed to be him from the future, whoever they were, were lying. Or possibly insane. Either way, it meant the information was false. A huge conflict between Voldemort and the Chevaliers wasn't going to wreak havoc on the world.

Quirrel hastily retrieved his turban and wrapped it haphazardly around his head, covering up the back of his head once more, though it looked much sillier on him when strewn over his head like a half-sized bath towel.

" _Operation completed_ ," Harry reported, making sure to keep quiet enough not to be overheard (not much of a problem with all of the noise around him). " _Quirrel does_ not _, in fact, hold the lord of all evil on the back of his head._ "

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Meanwhile, on the back of Quirrel's head, the lord of all evil glowered wrathfully, hidden safely behind the powerful _Drych_ Illusion spell he'd made sure to have placed on himself. While the turban that hid him was protected against summoning, levitation, locomotor, and other similar spells, there was always the chance that it would still be removed accidentally.

However, Voldemort had not become the most feared and dangerous Dark Lord of the century without acute intelligence and intuition. The sticking charm on the turban would prevent any stray wind from blowing it away. The gust that had hit it had been especially potent, about thrice as potent as the other winds blowing about the corridor on average. Added to that, that especially potent gust had been aimed directly at the back of his head.

There was no doubt in the Dark Lord's mind that someone had intentionally tried to reveal what laid beneath the turban. That meant there was a very real possibility that someone suspected that he was hiding on the back of Quirrel's head.

If someone did suspect so, it fortunately wasn't Dumbledore. The muggle-loving fool would have confronted him directly and alone, or with backup from a few teachers. Never would the old man attempt to unmask him in front of any students. It simply wasn't his style.

The amount of people other than Dumbledore who believed that he hadn't perished ten years ago on the eve of Halloween was thankfully very short. At the school, it was even shorter. There were few who would even imagine something as elaborate as the truth about his residence unless it was specifically suggested to them. Most likely, it was some foolish teen who wanted to see if the 'stuttering professor' was hiding some secret under his turban. That didn't mean that Voldemort wouldn't increase his vigilance and keep an extra eye out, though.

"I will speak with you later, Quirrel." The Dark Lord hissed maliciously from underneath the hastily reapplied head cloth. It was unlikely to be heard over the boisterous jubilations of the students.

"Y-yes, My Lord." The Professor whimpered back. For once, the stutter in his tone was authentic.

His servant and vessel would have to understand the severity of losing the only physical barrier keeping him hidden from the world, even for only a few moments. And when Voldemort was the harbinger of a consequence, it could generally be assumed that someone was going to be screaming in agony.

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"So, Harry, now that we know future-you wasn't actually future-you, mind telling us that 'catastrophic information' he told you?" Hermione inquired in a low tone.

"It wasn't much." Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "Besides Voldemort being 'on the back of Quirrel's head', whatever that was supposed to mean, it was that the Chevaliers would come out of secrecy some time next year."

"Next year?!" she hissed back. Harry was thankful that she hadn't screeched it out, as it would have drawn lots of attention in the hushed atmosphere of the castle's extensive library (an atmosphere that Madame Pince, the librarian, personally maintained with brutal efficiency).

"You can imagine my concern." Harry replied quietly. "He also said that Voldemort would rise to power again and take over Britain. When the Chevaliers came here, it would spark World War III and essentially destroy the entirety of the world's population. Fortunately, nothing he said can be trusted."

"That's... rather huge, Harry." came her hesitant response.

"I know. It's why I didn't want to tell you about it yet." Harry explained redundantly. "It's also why I had to know if what he said was true or not."

"But, then, if future-you wasn't actually future-you, then who could he be?" Hermione questioned concernedly.

"I've been wondering the same thing." Harry muttered, but it was loud enough for her to hear, sitting right next to each other at a small table as they were.

"He gave you the Magic Programming notes." she remarked. "Who could do that, though?"

"I suppose it's possible that someone stumbled upon the ability like I did." Harry theorized. "But then how could they be using the same terminology that I invented on my own? I've never taught anyone other than Aurore, and a few bare basics with Neville, but these notes were from independent scientific testing, and they far surpassed what I'm capable of now."

"Maybe he really was you from the future, but it was a completely different timeline." Hermione supposed. "You've heard of the Multiverse Theory, right?"

"I have." Harry said, nodding. "So you think that future-me _was_ actually future me, but from a timeline where a divergence occurred a while back?" His raised eyebrow told her just how likely he thought the idea was.

"I think it's _possible_." she corrected. "Honestly, it doesn't seem any less likely than _actual_ time travel."

"I suppose there's some wisdom in those words." Harry conceded the point with a brief, amused smile. "I still think there's a greater chance that whoever he was, he's still out there, somewhere. I thought we would be allies, at least, but it looks like he's trying to manipulate me with false information."

"So what do you think we should do about that?" Hermione asked, quirking a brow.

"At the moment, nothing," he replied. "If they feel like we're not playing into their hand, they'll either give up, in which case we won't have to worry much about them, or they'll come back to try and make us play into their hand again, in which case we can use the opportunity to gain more information about them."

"That makes sense." Hermione nodded agreeably. "But what if they suspect that you're onto them? Wouldn't they try a change of tactics?"

"That's true; there is always the possibility of that." Harry admitted. "However, we can't really prepare for that until we know what tactic they switch to, so the point's moot for now."

"Hmm," Hermione bobbed her head slightly in assent.

"Well, I think I should check back on Aurore and see how she's doing with that multiple activation condition work." Harry finished in a much lighter tone. The screech of wood against wood tore through the silence as he pushed his chair back to rise from his seat. "Feel free to tell the others about this; I'll go over it anyways in our next meeting."

"Sure thing, Harry." she replied, only half paying attention to him as he left. She focused instead on the book in her hand, chewing her lip slightly and her forehead creasing in worry. Unfortunately, it would prove a dismal distraction.

/-/-/

"The Christmas holidays are coming up." Harry mentioned casually, watching with approval as his apprentice demonstrated how her recently programmed spell could be cast with five different activation conditions (falling, rapid movement, specific body motions, injury, and the most common one, verbal command).

"They are." Aurore agreed absentmindedly, then frowned. "What is Christmas Holiday?"

"I guess I never did explain things like holidays to you." Harry mused, and a warm smile crossed his features. "Christmas is a celebration, a time for joy and laughter. Technically, it's supposed to be for some huge important biblical event, something about Jesus, I think. Nowadays, it's just a reason for people to get together, have fun, and give each other gifts."

"I see." She smiled radiantly back at him. "That sounds nice..."

"It is." Harry said. "I've never really celebrated it much, especially once I left my... abode. But now that everyone else is celebrating, I don't see why not to do it too."

"When does it happen?" Aurore asked eagerly.

"Well, Christmas Day is next Wednesday, but vacation starts three days earlier." Harry explained.

"What vacation?" she wondered, sending him a curious gaze.

"You don't know?" He asked, a bit surprised.

"You never told me, and I only really talk to you." Aurore rationalized.

"True enough," he accepted. "We're going to head back home for about a week in honor of the celebration, and because the students all want to get a break from classes longer than a weekend."

"We're going back home?" She asked, eyes wide in delighted surprise. "To the forest?"

"Only temporarily, but yes; we're going back to the forest." he confirmed. A moment of enjoyable silence passed between them. "Well, that will come in a few days. Right now, how about you show me the rest of the spells you've worked on?"

"Right!" She took to her task with renewed vigor, and she just couldn't seem to wipe the happy grin off her face throughout it.

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"Professor Dumbledore," Harry acknowledged guardedly, spearing the headmaster with narrow-eyed glances. "you sent for me."

"Quite," he agreed jovially, seemingly oblivious of Harry's mistrustful caution. "I would like to speak to you about your arrangements for the coming holidays. Would you like to remain in the castle with your apprentice?"

"I think not." Harry refuted tersely. "I will be returning to my home alongside Aurore. That isn't a problem, is it?"

"Ah, yes, the place you've built for yourself in the ever mysterious forest that cannot be located on foot," the headmaster nodded understandingly, and Harry made a mental note of _that_ surprising bit of information. "I may be mistaken, but I do not believe you have any guardian to care for you there?" It was voiced as a question, but Harry knew it was more like a stated fact.

"I do not." Harry acquiesced. "However, I will reiterate: is there a problem?"

"If there truly is no one to look after you, and Harry, it truly pains me to think of how long this has been so, then I'm afraid that I cannot permit you to simply return." Dumbledore explained sorrowfully.

"Why ever not?" Harry demanded, though his tone was calm and controlled, almost peaceful, but with an underlying hint of steel.

"If any student in Hogwarts were allowed to leave to wherever their heart desired without any adult to care for them, what do you think would come of it?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling with grandfatherly wisdom as he lectured. Instead of answering, Harry pressed his point further.

"For four continuous years of my life, I have lived wholly independent of any adult... interference." he explained slowly. "As you see before you, I am perfectly fine and unharmed. Surely, you would not doubt my ability to care and provide for my apprentice and myself for a mere week in the face of something like that?"

"My dear boy, I would never dream of it." Dumbledore accepted easily. "If you were to plead that case to the Wizengamot, I am certain you would find yourself quickly emancipated. However, it is not merely school policy, but ministry-enforced law that prevents me from allowing you to leave without an appointed guardian."

"I see." Harry replied crisply. "Is this law one that only applies to students of Hogwarts, or will I be prohibited from even existing without a... guardian?"

"According to British magical law, it is necessary for all minors that are not emancipated to have an appointed guardian." the headmaster answered, looking as though he were fighting to contain a sad sigh.

"Then there _is_ a problem." Harry's lips thinned into a scowl as his eyes and tone darkened. "Am I correct in assuming that you will not allow me to return to my home at all?"

"Why, Harry, I would not deny you the right to return to your home." Dumbledore disagreed with a soft shake of his head. "Home is, after all, a very precious thing."

"If that is the case, could you please make your intentions clear, as I have made mine?" Harry requested, forcibly cooling his exacerbated vexation.

"Of course, you have my apologies for avoiding a concise answer." the headmaster agreed. "To put it bluntly, I would like to procure a guardian for you and your apprentice to accompany you back to your home with you." That was what he said. What Harry heard was 'if you leave the castle, it will be under the surveillance of my spy'.

"Absolutely unacceptable!" Harry snarled, not bothering to hide his animosity anymore, and shot the professor a baleful glare. "You're telling me I cannot return to my home without bringing your _friend_ along? _Conneries_!"

"That is not how I would have worded it, but it is nonetheless much the truth, as I would only appoint to you someone whom I trust greatly." Dumbledore sighed sadly. "I must admit, though, when I first met you, I did not take you for a person to swear in French."

Harry almost snorted. He might not have spoken French with any semblance of fluency, but Aurore had been able to teach him some words, including a few that raised questions as to where a six-year-old girl would learn them. It was natural that he would pick up a few snippets of the language when teaching a native that spoke no English how to communicate with him.

"If I cannot be allowed my privacy, then I will not be returning to my home at all." Harry bit out harshly.

"It saddens me to hear you say that, but if it is your wish, you may stay here for the holidays." Dumbledore responded with a defeated expression plastered on his face.

 _It is not 'my wish'!_ Harry shouted in the depths of his mind.

Slowly, in the midst of his fury, the calculative part of him began to form a plan. Clearly, there would be no path to convincing Dumbledore to let him stay. If that was the case, he'd simply need to find another method to achieve his goal- getting home with only himself and Aurore.

"Very well," Harry spat, not having to fake his rage. "then if that is all, I will be leaving."

The headmaster did not respond to him as he stormed out of the circular office. If he couldn't go back with Dumbledore's permission, then he'd simply find a way to go back without Dumbledore's permission. Somehow.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"Harry, what's wrong?" Aurore asked tentatively, a worried frown marring her visage.

"Remember when I told you we'd be going back home soon for Christmas?" he replied, trying to hide his glumness and frustration from showing in his voice.

"Yes," The word was clipped short.

" _Albus Dumbledore_ isn't going to let us go without sending someone 'responsible' with us." Harry ground out. "Ever."

"No," Aurore breathed, looking as if she might collapse into a sobbing wreck in just a few moments. "No, he can't! We- We won't ever go back?"

"Don't be silly, Aurore." Harry shook his head pointedly and let out a small grin. "Since when have I ever listened to Dumbledore? We'll sneak out and find a way to convince him that we were here the entire time. I'm good at coming up with ideas like that, so don't worry.

"Right now, though, I'm not really sure exactly how to proceed with this. Our next meeting is in just thirty minutes or so, but I'll let everyone know that they can come up now."

"Okay," Aurore said, not looking particularly okay.

" _Epistulae_ : Our next weekly meeting us in thirty minutes. If you can come up sooner, please do so now." Harry passed the message on. No response came, so he'd have to assume that they'd gotten it.

"Alright, Aurore, let's head to the meeting room." Harry suggested, looking back to make sure she was following him.

By the time the duo entered several minutes later, Neville and Hermione were seated and already waiting for them. The only ones missing were the twins. Hopefully, they wouldn't be too late, but knowing them, it could go either way.

Exactly seven minutes and thirty four seconds later (he'd been counting to pass the time), the two redheaded doppelgängers came skipping into the room, hand in hand and humming a merry tune. Harry didn't know why he'd expect anything else from them.

"Oh my, dearest brother, it would seem we're the last to arrive." Twin One declared sadly.

"Indeed it would." Twin Two agreed solemnly. "What a tragedy."

"Oh, calm your drama act." Harry ordered, but there was no energy in his words. "Sit down so we can start."

"Right-o, Boss!" They accepted eagerly and in perfect sync with each other.

"Now, first order of business is the results of our last operation." Harry began. "As you all know, everything that the supposed future-me said is wrong, but now that we _know_ it's wrong, I'm going to tell you what exactly it was that he said.

"The first thing he told me was not to trust Quirrel because 'Voldemort was on the back of his head', as you know. The other parts were more important, though. He said that soon, Voldemort would make a second rise to power and this time, he would win against the ministry. Not too long after, the Chevaliers that I told you about would come out of secrecy and wage war on the world. The battle between them and Voldemort's forces would 'wreak havoc like I've never seen', enough for me to go back in time, apparently."

"That is pretty huge." Neville admitted. "I'm just glad it's not true."

"You and me both, Neville." Harry agreed with a heavy nod of his head.

"I've done some research." Hermione cut in. "According to several obscure history books, time travel has happened before, though it was only ever a day back at most. They were pretty tightlipped about the details, though, since the ministry doesn't want anyone to get any ideas."

"That might be something to look into later." Harry acknowledged. "Does anyone else have something to say about that?"

"Les Chevaliers Pieux," Aurore spoke up, her high pitched, childish voice drawing everyone's eyes to her. "They would not come out of hiding unless they were as strong as they'll ever be. They were planning sometime a few years from now, back when I was there. I don't know if that changed, though."

"He said the same thing," Harry observed. "that they'll only attack once they're at their strongest. But he claimed it would happen sometime next year."

The six of them all shared uneasy glances.

"He also claimed that V-V- that You-Know-Who was on the back of Professor Quirrel's head." Neville pointed out. "Maybe he put some truth into his lies to make them more believable."

"Yes, you're probably right." Harry agreed, still shaken by the idea that everything that 'future-him' had said might actually be true. "Is there anything else anyone would like to say? Fred and George?- you've been strangely silent." The twins exchanged a meaningful look.

"There's just nothing particularly-"

"-that we really need to say right now,"

"-so don't worry your pretty head, Oh great leader."

"Moving on," Harry continued loudly, forcing down a snort. "There's something that I'd like to bring up." He inhaled deeply before returning from a stray nervous though that he crushed mercilessly. "Over the holidays, I plan to go back to my home with Aurore, but I'd like to leave without drawing too much attention to myself. It's a bit difficult to do that, being the Boy-Who-Lived, so I was thinking about going out through a more discreet exit." Once more, the twins shared conspiratorial glances before grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"Harry, my mate, I do believe-"

"-that we have something that may-"

"-be of assistance to you." They proclaimed. "We present to you, The Marauders' Map!" The twin on the right slipped a blank piece of parchment out of his robe's pocket and laid it down on the table.

"It seems incredibly useful." Harry remarked dryly. "Is there anything else?"

"Just wait-"

"-you won't believe your eyes." They promised knowingly. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

As soon as the last words left his mouth, a blob of ink faded into existence on the paper, swirling outwards to form lines and shapes. Within a few seconds, the entire parchment was covered.

"Messers Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs are pleased to present The Marauders' Map." Harry read. "What is this?"

The two unfolded the parchment, revealing a complicated map of a very large building. Tags with names on them floated around with small footstep following them. Slowly, the cogs in Harry's head turned until a realization clicked into being.

"Wait a minute, this is Hogwarts!" he exclaimed. "And all of these people are..."

"The Marauders' Map shows all of Hogwarts and everyone in it," the twin on the left explained. "including all of the hidden passages no one knows about."

"You guys..." Harry trailed off with a large grin. "You've been holding out on me!"

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Snow littered the branches of every tree and covered the ground like a smooth, white blanket. The sun shone brightly in the sky, having just risen an hour ago. Long, thin clouds stretched across the sky as far as the eye could see.

There was a small circle of ground and trees completely untouched by the snow, where the vibrant flora seemed to smile. The trees were still overspread with thick foliage and the grass gleamed, a deep, verdant green. In the center, a structure built of stone and wood gazed out, sending a warm sensation through Harry's body.

"Here we are, Aurore." he said triumphantly. "Home, sweet home,"

"Harry," she asked nervously. "Won't Dumbledore notice that you're gone?"

"I left a realistic avatar at the castle." Harry explained slowly and for the seventh time. "Dumbledore thinks I'm angry with him, so I'll just send it out for meals and pretend that I'm spending most of the time brooding in our dorm. He'll never suspect a thing."

A loud pop rang out nearby, and Harry suddenly spun around to face the potential threat. A mixture of surprise, anger, dread, and a sliver of fear tore through his mind when he saw what, or rather, who it was. Garbed in her distinguishing emerald green robes, Professor McGonagall stood with her arms crossed, scowling in displeasure.

"Mr. Potter, a word, if you please?" she requested, and Harry felt the dread sink deeper into his core.

 **(A/N): So, this chapter's done, finally. It took me all week to get this down onto paper! Anyways, I'd just like to tell you all that next week's chapter will be a bit different from what you're used to in this story (though I won't say how, muahahahahaha). That's all.**

 **-Fasiah**


	18. Archenemies

**(A/N): I've been feeling extremely ill this entire past week, so I apologize if this chapter isn't as good as all of the others. I'll make sure to check over it as soon as it stops feeling like my insides want to be on my outside.**

Chapter Eighteen: Archenemies

Pacing in a circle around his desk, Albus Dumbledore's mind was a chaotic mass of churning thoughts that rampaged like blustering whirlwinds. Perhaps another close review would help him come to a realization or at least an idea?

Striding over calmly to a seemingly insignificant wooden cupboard, the aged headmaster pulled open the doors with a wave of his hand. Inside, was what appeared to be a large stone chalice, far too large to ever possibly hold up to drink from, with a swirling liquid that shone with a faint incandescence in a shallow pool at the top of it. It was one of his most prized and useful possessions: the pensieve.

Dumbledore pressed the tip of his wand lightly against his wrinkled forehead and closed his eyes in concentration, searching for the right memory. There it was! Just as a fisherman would catch and reel in a fish, the professor grabbed ahold of the memory tightly with his magic and pulled. As he removed his wand, a small, shimmering strand of magic twisted slightly, attached to its tip.

He dropped the memory lightly into the pool of enchanted water. The liquid rippled out from the center, until Dumbledore's reflection was replaced by an image of the memory he'd selected. Taking a deep breath, he dove into the basin and disappeared into the impossibly deep water in the shallow pool.

Dumbledore stood and watched himself sample a portion of roasted duck, seated at the head of the staff table. It had been a delectable morsel, he recalled. He focused his attention on the the grand double doors that marked the only entrance and exit of the Great Hall.

As expected, they were thrown open with a crash, revealing five imposing figures in all-concealing black cloaks, though the were all noticeably shorter than the average wizard. Albus saw himself rise and clutch his carefully concealed wand against his sleeve. Even in the memory, he couldn't help but tense a little at the burning red orbs that glared from beneath their hoods.

"I do not remember offering an invitation to any distinguished individuals like yourselves." the other Dumbledore announced, causing nervous whispers to break out all round, though his tone was amiable. "Clearly, I must have forgotten, for any who are not allowed onto Hogwarts' Grounds would find themselves repelled by the castle's wards."

"We do not come by invitation." A distorted voice echoed throughout the hall. The figure at the head of the group raised his hand up and the firelight from the torches dimmed to embers. There was silence from the students and staff. "We, who have lived only in the shadows of this world's raging magic, come now to remind the descendants of the _magoi_ of old that which has been eroded from their minds by the endless sanding of time."

Albus considered the words carefully. Aside from the drama of the speech, the leader (presumably the one talking) implied that the organization had been around for a long time, but had hidden itself. There might be references to them in history if they were truly that old. Another thing to look up would be those ' _magoi_ of old'; it could provide some clues.

"In the first age, there was chaos and nothingness. Then came darkness and light, and with it, life and death. Across countless eternities, the heavens and worlds developed and evolved. The cycle of life and death must now come to a close; this is the will of the chaos and nothingness." The distorted voice continued.

It sounded almost like a mythological tale- how the universe came into being featured at the beginning of just about every religion in existence. Religion in and of itself was far less common among the magical communities than their muggle counterparts. It came with knowing about and practicing magic. That didn't mean it was nonexistent, though.

"We are the Herald of Oblivion, who shall bring unto this universe the forgotten era of the void. Nothing will return to nothing. The stars will vanish. Life will perish. _Silence_ will fall." This time, the words were voiced by multiple people, each eerily distorted.

Their goal was very clear in their declaration to achieve it. For whatever reason, religious or otherwise, these people wanted to destroy the entire world and leave nothing behind. Complete obliteration.

A wave of force cracked the floor beneath the cloaked figures' feet, blowing the tablecloths around. There was still no noise from any of the students and staff.

"For you, Albus Dumbledore, we have but one thing to say: watch your footsteps." the original voice warned. "Oh, and I hope you enjoy our presents, if you can find them before they destroy you. _Jubare Ingens_!"

After the obvious incantation (which Dumbledore could not say he recognized), a blinding radiance discharged from the area closest to the doors, though it was impossible to discern exactly where the origin of it came. The entire hall was cast a brilliant white that obstructed all view temporarily, before it faded, leaving no trace of the five mysterious adversaries but for the crimson illusion of a grinning skull with a scythe behind it. That too disappeared into the air seconds later.

Dumbledore watched as the world around him dissolved into blackness and felt himself be cast out of the memory. When his sight returned, he was back in his office, staring down into the swirling waters of the pensieve.

At ten o'clock in the night, Professor Dumbledore was hardly going to merrily skip on to the library. Any research would have to wait until then. Tomorrow, he'd also make sure to casually ask the rest of the teachers if they'd ever heard of those things as well. Until then, the only resource he could use was his mind (assisted by the clarity the pensieve gave him when returning to memories).

He could afford to view the other and more recent memory, though. No harm could come of it, and it could always provide further insight. Besides, he wasn't yet somnolent enough for sleep, and there was nothing else to do.

This memory was already bottled, as it he had viewed it earlier, so there was no need to pull another copy out of his mind. A large glass chandelier-like object that was also hidden in an innocuous looking cupboard contained over a hundred bottled memories. The one he was looking for would be labeled ' _New Enemies Return_ ' and located in the most recent shelf of the memories.

Once more, Dumbledore watched the silvery strand of magic slowly fuse with the liquid in the pensieve, until he was staring down at an image of the selected memory. He dipped his head into the memory and felt his entire self fall down until he found himself in the same Great Hall, though there was a notable lack of Halloween decorations.

Staring intently at the doors, Dumbledore was not surprised to find them thrown open once again. This time, the professor noticed that six figures entered through the hall, whereas there had previously been five. Perhaps they had recruited a new follower in the day between the two visits? Either way, it was something to take note of.

After a short and dramatic introduction, the warped voice of the speaker echoed through the hall as he delivered his riddle of a message.

" _Deep in these walls, behind doors of gold,_

 _lies hidden great power, great yet uncontrolled._

 _For inside, is there magic, most dark and forbade;_

 _If found not in time, then death shall pervade._

 _If seek'th the one who of this place, is enlightened,_

 _We apologize so, for you are certainly frightened._

 _Know that for you only, does treasure await,_

 _But attain it not, and your failure is fate._

 _Now back to you wizards, who in ignorance dwell,_

 _Search thoroughly and quickly, before sound'th your knell."_

Dumbledore had found the 'doors of gold' and there had been a sarcastic note informing him that it had all been a distraction so that they could carry out their plans, whatever those may have been. But there was something else in the rhymes as well.

The message briefly stopped to address someone else, who would supposedly know the location of those 'doors of gold'. Perhaps the place where the note was hidden was not the location mentioned at the beginning, and there was a much more hidden 'doors of gold' elsewhere in the castle.

Another thing to note was that they way the message was worded, it sounded as if whoever they were talking to was not expecting them. But then, if they had affiliation with the Herald of Oblivion, why would they not be shocked to see them when the Herald had shown up just the night before?

Who had been missing from the Halloween feast that would only hear of the abrupt arrival of the Herald of Oblivion through rumors? Not very many, as it _was_ the Halloween feast. He would have to return to the memory he'd just previously reviewed and check.

Looking out at the crowd of students, Dumbledore appraised them for any sign of extreme surprise, a task made difficult by how all of the students were staring in bewilderment at the six cloaked figures. It did not take long for his eyes to rest on Harry Potter, and they found something different.

The way the boy was staring at the six of them was unlike the other students. Firstly, alongside the shock was a recognition that implied familiarity. Secondly, he did not look merely surprised, but completely flabbergasted, as if the idea that the six of them were there was absolutely inconceivable. He would have to pay careful attention to the boy when reviewing the earlier memory.

The Herald of Oblivion then left in a flash of light much the same as the time before, leaving behind the same ghostly image and also an imprint of the riddle they'd just given. The world around him faded into black when Dumbledore left for the doors of the Great Hall with the aid of most of the staff, and he was thrown back into his office once again.

As surely as rain was wet, Dumbledore found something amiss with the Boy-Who-Lived during the night of the Halloween feast. Namely, he was absent from it, along with five other students, Neville, his apprentice (was she Aurore or Emily, he wondered), Hermione Granger, and the Weasley twins.

Even more interestingly, after the bright flash of white that disguised the escape of the Herald of Oblivion, four out of the five of them had suddenly appeared at their respective tables, as if by magic. The only exception had been Miss Granger, whose presence could still not be accounted for.

The question now was: what relationship did Harry Potter have with the Herald of Oblivion? And what of the other students as well- did they also have a relationship with the mysterious organization? This called for a staff meeting tomorrow...

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Just as the headmaster of the castle was searching his mind for answers and forming conclusions, a dark force began plotting its own schemes. The Dark Lord Voldemort's crimson eyes gleamed with an excited malice as his host faced down the three-headed-dog, worthless mongrel that is was.

As planned, Quirrel enlarged the wooden harp that laid in his pocket and bewitched it to play a gentle serenade. Just as the beast was about to climb to its full imposing size and attack, it collapsed back down into a blissful slumber.

A simple charm removed the beast's forepaw from the trap door that it hid beneath it. Gazing down into the dark depths, Quirrel peered at whatever laid there, but it was all veiled in shadows. The Dark Lord inhaled deeply from underneath his host's turban and caught the scent of Devil's Snare.

" _Fire_ ," he hissed. " _Burn through it!_ "

"As you command, My Lord." Quirrel replied in a murmur. " _Incendio Maxima_!"

A torrent of fire erupted from the tip of his wand and blasted down the chamber, revealing something large and green at the end. An agonized and inhuman screech echoed back up through the shaft before it was cut off abruptly.

" _Down_ ," Voldemort commanded, rasping. " _Protect your feet, Quirrel_."

"Yes, lord." he responded dutifully. After a muttered incantation, his feet would be unharmed after falling into the depths. And fall he did, without making the slightest sound but for the rush of wind that whipped past him. In seconds, his feet met with the ground, covered in the burnt remains of whatever greenery had been there before.

The only light in the room came from the embers still left in the carcass of the plant. It cast a faint orange glow around the chamber, and Quirrel spotted a thick, heavyset door made of some kind of wood. Interlocking bars of iron reinforced the structure. It would be difficult to blast through, without a doubt.

However, in spite of the door's appearance, it offered no resistance when he pulled it open, revealing a circular chamber lit with torches that lined the walls. At the very center, a heavily armored figure, like some kind if knight, drew its sword and faced him, standing stiffly.

What was this? The Dark Lord wondered, amused. Was he supposed to flee from it in terror, some muggle armor with a few enchantments? No, there had to be something else.

" _Attack swiftly_." Voldemort commanded.

Without forming a verbal response, the Defense professor fired off a silent blasting curse at the armor. The blade quickly came up and parried the spell, knocking it aside as though it was a piece if crumpled up parchment.

" _Vrazit_ ," the knightly figure uttered, alerting Voldemort and Quirrel that there was actually a person beneath all of the metal. As he spoke, he thrusted his sword outwards, directly at the Dark Lord. A small burst of white energy shot out of the blade's tip almost to quickly to see and impacted roughly with the professor's chest. He was thrown back against the wall and could feel blood begin to seep into his robes. This needed to end quickly, or he'd be overpowered.

" _Avada Kedavra_!" he cried, and the sickly green death curse rocketed out of his wand straight at his armored foe. His target dodged the spell, but Quirrel wasn't done. "Impedimenta!"

When the paladin tried to parry that spell as well, he found his blade frozen in place in the air. While he rolled away from his own blade, the knight-figure was struck with another spell from the heavily injured Defense professor. Instantly, the man collapsed into an undignified sleep, trembling but unable to move. The spell would last an hour, so Quirrel only had so much time until he would have to find the stone and present it to his master.

The immediate problem in the circular chamber, now that its guardian was indisposed, was where to go next. The only door there seemed to be the one from which he'd entered. Beyond that, there were no windows or holes or anything at all that could even really hide a passageway. That meant it was hidden by magic.

The normal array of detection spells were proven ineffective, not that Quirrel had been expecting otherwise. He could always just fire off blasting curses and see if anything reveals itself, but that would likely bring the entire chamber crashing down on him.

" _The center_ ," Lord Voldemort hissed. _"I sense a magic in the center._ "

The professor strode carefully over to the center of the room, and noticed that the entire floor was covered in very thin concentric circles that rippled out from a middle point- where he was standing. Quirrel wasn't quite certain what to do then, but found his question answered when each of the circles let off a faint glow and began to rearrange themselves and move up from the ground with mechanical clicks and whirrs.

By the time it had all concluded, the small platform he was standing on began to rise slowly up and the entire chamber was covered in a complex and chaotic piece of machinery. With one final whirr, a small groove opened up at the far end of the wall, nearly twenty feet above the ground.

After a few moments of analysis, Quirrel decided that he was supposed to traverse the strange metal rings like a maze to get to the end. They were precariously thin, though- thinner than a single foot. Nevertheless, on he would go.

With only fifteen minutes to spare before their armored friend down below would break out of the paralysis spell, the Defense professor finally made it to the strange hole-in-the-wall entrance. He would have to crawl through it on his hands and knees to fit through.

Fortunately, the tunnel began to widen not too far in, until he was able to stand up again and walk the rest of he way. The tunnel itself was certainly very long- long enough to wrap around the school several times, though it was perfectly straight. Quirrel caught sight of the end of it five entire minutes before he reached it, and he wondered what kind of spatial manipulation magic had been used on the tunnel.

Finally, on the other side of the tunnel, there was another chamber, though much smaller than the previous one. Like before, it was lit by fiery torches perched on the wall. The only thing of note within the chamber was a door on the opposite end of it and a mirror that was placed on a pedestal in the very center.

The professor placed himself before the mirror and gazed intently at it. His reflection reached into the pocket of his robes and brought out a small ruby-like gemstone that glistened in the torchlight. The Quirrel in the mirror tossed the stone casually in the air a few times, always catching it before it passed below his waist.

"I see myself with the stone." he murmured. "But how do I _get_ it?!"

" _Patience, Quirrel_ ," Lord Voldemort whispered to him soothingly. " _The stone will reveal itself._ "

Once more, Quirrel stared at his reflection before closing his eyes and imagining himself with the stone, picturing it in his mind. He could almost feel its texture and weight in his hand, but something was not quite right. There was something missing from it.

What would he do with the stone? How would he use it? The answer was obvious and he spoke it to himself without hesitation. _I will present the stone to my master. It is_ he _who will use it for his greatness._ Suddenly, the phantom weight and texture of the stone became far too exact to be merely his imagination. Opening his eyes, the professor stared at his right hand. Clutched lightly in it was the Philosopher's Stone, the very reason he and his master had come to Hogwarts at all.

" _Excellent_ ," Voldemort hissed, very pleased. " _You have done well, Quirrel. However, now is the time for your final sacrifice_."

"My Lord?" he asked nervously.

" _My will is your mind, my soul in your flesh._ " The Dark Lord chanted, ignoring his host's tentative questioning. " _I am the keeper of life, I am the ruler of death._ "

"M-My Lord?" the Defense professor repeated, growing all the more nervous. Once again, he was ignored.

" _The abyss divides no more, the two emerge as one._ " Voldemort continued to intone darkly. " _Catalyst of wonders, hear my invocation, that I am the one. Aperito Magnum!_ "

The stone glowed an angry vermilion. Quirrel cried out in painful misery as he felt his very soul become twisted and deformed while his mind slowly became truly enslaved to the Dark Lord. Soon, he would have no individuality, he could feel it, he would simply be-

 _Ah, yes, how it feels to have a body once more_ , he thought to himself, greatly pleased. Pale hands reached up and tore the turban away from their head. On what had once been Quirinus Quirrel's face, crimson eyes gazed out triumphantly at the small artifact in his hands.

"You've lost, Dumbledore." Lord Voldemort proclaimed in a soft, simpering laugh. A gleeful smile stretched unnaturally wide across his ghastly pale visage. His eyes shone with a malicious delight. "I have you now..."

Silence reigned through the chamber as the Dark Lord seemed to glide away and vanish in a soundless plume of black smoke and shadows, leaving behind the unraveled head cloth lying innocently on the cold stone floor.


	19. Into the Woods

**(A/N): you may wish to review the ending of chapter seventeen if the last time you read it was two weeks ago.**

Chapter Nineteen: Into the Woods

"I believe Headmaster Dumbledore made himself perfectly clear as to what your two options for the Christmas holidays were." Professor McGonagall stated matter-of-factly.

"Yes," Harry replied almost serenely, trying desperately not to betray the myriad of negative emotions rushing through him. "Is that all?"

"Why is it, then," McGonagall continued. "that I find the both of you here, alone?"

"If you're looking for a guilt ridden 'I'm sorry, Professor, we should have listened to Dumbledore, please forgive us', then I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed." Harry responded, making an effort not to roll his eyes.

"You will not be permitted to stay here by yourselves." McGonagall carried on with a sigh.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that the school had permission to block someone's privacy in their own homes." he retorted, tone growing sarcastic.

"In the absence if a student's legal guardian, their teachers are considered _In Loco Parentis_ , meaning that they are that student's legal guardian temporarily. As such, until you acquire legal guardians or emancipate yourself, the Hogwarts staff are your guardians." the professor explained patiently, though Harry could see her carefully controlled indignation.

"Are you going to ship us back off to school, then?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"That is one possibility." McGonagall answered. "The other is that you both stay here and I will stay with you. All of the parchments I have to grade over the week are in my trunk a few meters away. It's your choice."

Harry could feel his apprentice's pulse increase with every word the two of them exchanged. She was almost shaking with nervous tension. He rubbed her shoulders gently, a small message to relax, that everything would be alright.

"Would you mind terribly if the two of us discussed this?" Harry asked. It was rhetorical. "It's a rather important decision, after all."

McGonagall gestured to them with her hand in a silent missive of 'go ahead'. Harry nodded his head in thanks, inwardly glaring balefully at her. He led Aurore to the safety of the programmed defenses around their home, one of which allowed for the blocking of sound (though that effect could be lowered without hassle, as it would make communication with anyone putside of the wards impossible).

"We can't let her stay at our house for a week." he started. "Who knows what kind of information she could relay to Dumbledore? We have a lot of secrets here and not many places to hide them." Aurore shifted from foot to foot anxiously. "What is it, Aurore?"

"It — it is not important." she dismissed. Harry could tell otherwise, though, having known her for years.

"Anything you have to say is important Aurore." he disagreed. "Now, what is it you want to say?"

"I — I want to stay here." she mumbled out. "I want to stay here, please."

Harry blinked a few times before smiling and nodding his head in assent, then motioning her to continue.

"We didn't come here, sorry, we haven't been here for half of a year." she went on, meeting his eyes with newfound confidence, though it was tenuous. "I just... need to be here again, go in the forest and see the animals again. I... don't know the English word for what this is."

"I see, you miss home." Harry responded, shaking his head at himself. "I should have realized that this would happen. It was your first time away from home for so long since we built it."

"Miss?" Aurore echoed. "As in to hit off target?"

"To miss can also mean to feel sad that something is gone, even for a short time." Harry explained. "That's the word you're looking for. Let's go tell McGonagall."

Their professor of transfiguration was waiting for them with suspicious eyes, obviously having realized the temporary sound barrier between herself and them. She had already been cross to begin with, so Harry didn't particularly care much how annoyed she was.

"We'll be staying here." Harry affirmed. "Welcome to our humble abode."

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Seated in his office and undergoing deep inner thinking, Albus Dumbledore was jolted out of his musings by the shrill whirring of an alarm device on his desk. Particularly, it was an alarm device only activated by the sole human helping to guard the philosopher's stone.

Instantly, Dumbledore reached for his wand (tucked carefully beneath his robes) and sprang to his feet. Within seconds, he was out the door and taking the quickest route to the third floor corridor as rapidly as possible, cursing the anti-apparition wards the covered the school grounds.

When he finally arrived, the _l'évêque_ that guarded the chamber that came before the mirror room was barely able to move, under the residual effects of a powerful immobilization charm. He directed the headmaster to the area where the stone was hidden, claiming that he himself would need no assistance.

When Dumbledore made his way through the maze of mechanical brass instruments (showing a surprising level of agility for one so old), he felt despair begin to sink into his throat. He did not even need to check if the stone still remained. He could no longer feel its presence, the metaphysical call that reverberated throughout whatever environment the stone was in, if one knew how to listen to it.

All that he could see was a small, crumpled strip of cloth sitting on the stone floor, hopefully evidence as to the perpetrator. The stone could only be used to brew the Elixir of Life on a night when the moon was new. The next night would be twenty three days away, if Dumbledore's astronomy was correct. Twenty three days to find and recover one of the rarest and most powerful magical artifacts known to man.

This could not wait.

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"Aurore!" Harry called excitedly. "We have a Smasher!"

"One moment!" she called back.

In front of Harry was an impressively massive behemoth of shggy brown fur and claws. It looked somewhat similar to a grizzly bear, though it was easily twice as large, its fur was longer, and its teeth and claws looked at least five times as deadly. 'Smasher', Harry had felt when he'd first dubbed the species, was an excellent name for them.

The hulking mass of muscle and hair raised a limb with deceptive lethargy. The claw came crashing to the ground at high speeds and slammed into the earth where Harry had stood just moments ago. Smashers ranked a level three on the 'does this pose a threat?' scale, not too dangerous unless you were careless.

Harry retaliated with a powerful kick to the solar plexus, which, having not been enhanced by magic, did little damage to the hairy creature. Using the beast's chest as a springboard, Harry summersaulted over the thing's head and landed neatly on his feet. He grinned. Just wait until he showed Aurore _that_. The Smasher roared in annoyance and lumbered around to face the boy again.

A web of crackling electricity was launched at the beast, ensnaring it and forcing a howl of pain from its maw. Aurore landed next to him in a crouch, having jumped down from one of the numerous trees that marked the land around their home.

"GGRRRAAAAAAAAARGH!" the Smasher roared in defiance, its arms tearing through the magic that was damaging it. The lightning dissipated.

" _Fluctus Rugiens_ ," Harry incanted, lazily pointing his index finger at the furry beast. Invisible to the naked eye, a tremendous blast of pure kinetic force erupted from the digit, expanding outward as it grew further away. He felt no recoil, the spell bending physics to send all energy directly at the target.

The Smasher was catapulted backwards, and slammed into an old, thick oaken trunk that shuddered at the impact but remained sturdy. Dazed, the giant creature stumbled to its feet and crashed towards Harry through the foliage.

Aurore dashed past him, darting in and out of trees, and brought Excalibur II out from its sheath. With a swift arc of her blade, a hefty laceration was sliced into the Smasher's hide. Now realizing that it was facing two superior opponents that, despite their sizes, were not prey, the beast fled from their sight, baying in pain and distress to its fellows.

"Ah, that was fun..." Harry sighed contentedly. "I guess all of the sparring we did at the castle has raised our combat level."

"At this rate, we will have to look for Level Fours and Level Fives to have any fun." Aurore agreed, returning her blade to its sheath.

"What on Earth happened here?!" a disheveled Professor McGonagall demanded. "First I hear such an awful racket and then I come here to find half the trees in the area demolished. Someone, please explain this to me."

"There was a Smasher." Harry said simply. "They're strong enough to put up a fight, so we drove it away."

"A... Smasher?" McGonagall echoed. "I hope, for your sakes, that it is not some manner of dangerous magical creature."

"Like I said, they're strong enough to put up a fight." Harry repeated. "But Smashers aren't so dangerous. It's the Riverscales and Dragonworms that you really need to be careful around here."

"Do you mean to tell me that this forest, where your home is located, has an infestation of multiple magical creatures dangerous enough to kill the both of you." McGonagall asked in a very controlled voice, though Harry could tell that she wanted to scream her throat sore at the two of them.

"More or less," Harry conceded. "But it's okay, we know how to deal with them."

"I must disagree with you there, Mr. Potter." McGonagall rebuked as she shook her head and glared sternly at him. "We will be returning to your home, and I will think twice before letting you do some 'harmless exploring' in the woods.

"You don't seem to understand, Professor." Harry responded. "All we do here is wander into the woods and come across dangerous creatures. As you see before you, the two of us are perfectly unscathed after years of doing so. Experimental probability would dictate that there is a very, _very_ small chance that either of us will be even slightly harmed should we do so again."

"I believe it is you who does not understand, Mr. Potter." McGonagall rebuffed. "I cannot and will not put you, as my charges, into any danger while I watch over you. There will be no repetition of this from now until you are adults."

"I gave you a scientifically backed reason as to why we will be no danger while out there." Harry responded. "Will you adhere to that logic, or to your own conjecture that a walk in the woods will endanger us?"

"Word it however you like, but I will not allow you to go back there, for the sake of some childish adventure!" McGonagall remained adamantly rooted in her resolve.

Harry's lips curled into a snarl. _How dare you invade our home, trample our lifestyle, and lock us in our own home with your thrice-damned authority!_ he mentally raged. _You have no right to be here!_

"It's such a shame." Harry muttered, turning away from the professor, Aurore just behind him. "I was enjoying your class so much, too. But I suppose I should have known. Those who have power will exert it over those who have less power, regardless of the necessity of doing so. Why would you be an exception?"

McGonagall was left wondering what her young charge meant as he trekked back to his cabin, bristling with impotent wrath. Aurore followed behind him, equally furious, but also frightened at the prospect of having her home life permanently changed.

 _This is why I hate adults!_ Harry screamed in his mind. _They always listen to their own voice instead of what makes sense!_

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Lying in bed in his own quarters within the castle, Lord Voldemort waited for the wounds he'd received from the strange armored being that guarded the stone. They refused to be healed with magic, and he couldn't risk going to the school's mediwitch, since Dumbledore likely already suspected him. It was well worth the reward, though, he thought, hand clenched around the ruby-like gemstone he'd worked so hard to attain.

Dumbledore's suspicions would doubtlessly rest on him as the only new teacher. He would never be able to stand up to the headmaster's scrutiny for the rest of the year. However, he did not need the rest of the year; all he had to wait was twenty three days, until the Elixir of Life could be brewed beneath the new moon.

 _Find me out and prove it in twenty three days, you old fool._ Voldemort thought snidely. _That's all you have until I return, fully immortal once more._


	20. Discord and Harmony

**(A/N): The hiatus is finally over! You have my deepest apologies for the long wait. The next chapter will be out within ten days, you have my word.**

Chapter Twenty: Discord and Harmony

Harry ducked under a blast of crackling electricity and hid his body behind a large oak tree. A sudden wave of force cracked the sturdy wood protecting him, and a flash of light sliced it cleanly, leaving only a small upright log a few feet high. Harry retaliated with his own spells.

" _Fluctus! Mollis Fulgor!_ " he shouted, practically announcing his attack to his opponent. Concussive blunt force launched her off her feet and a bolt of lightning, not as powerful as the one she'd sent his way but still fairly threatening, just barely missed her torso. That was just the distraction, though.

Harry's next spell was wordless, and he began to concentrate on several sharp looking rocks, fallen branches, and chunks of ice. Exerting his will on them, they began to rise up slowly from their location in the dirt and snow. By the time his foe was back on her feet in a low, predatory crouch, she was surrounded by floating debris, though most of it was hidden in the bare but thick foliage around the clearing.

" _Cacumino,_ " Harry murmured, knowing that the low tone wouldn't carry as far as the hiss of a whisper would. Instantly, all of the debris rocketed towards her; she was targeted from all sides.

Thrusting her hands out from her body in a strange gesture, an invisible shield was erected around his opponent's body, deflecting all of the varied materials, some of which wound up dangerously close to Harry. Of course, if that wasn't enough, she then gathered a storm of dancing fire around her, and the flames were soon rushing at him like an angry beast.

Relying on his innate shield spell to ward off the blazing inferno, a bold move that saw a sizable drain in his magical energy, Harry charged towards his adversary with another spell on the tip of his tongue. Before he could utter an incantation, though, the two of them were interrupted. Violently.

 _"Protego!_ " a very irate voice cried out. The force of the shielding charm was enough to blow both of them away from each other and knock them to the ground. "What on earth is all of this noise about?!"

"Aurore and I were having a light sparring session." Harry explained, deliberately turning his tone condescending, as if he was indulging the curiosity of a naive child. "It's nothing unusual, really." He slowly rose to his feet and gazed impassively at her.

"A light sparring session?" McGonagall echoed skeptically. "Pardon my bluntness, but it looked as though you were about to tear each other to shreds. That fire was not something to play around with. It's remarkable that you don't have very serious burns, Mr. Potter."

"Such spars have taken place almost daily within Hogwarts Castle." Harry returned. "As you know, I have yet to come to class with any grievous injuries, and I assure you that Aurore has been just as sound."

"I can allow this to continue no longer, you understand, Mr. Potter." the professor replied admonishingly. "Casually waving around such powerful and destructive magic is not healthy for anyone. Even if you have been unharmed thus far, the risk to both of your health is too great. I hope you understand just how serious this is."

"I understand exactly how serious our sparring sessions are." Harry ground out. "They carry all the danger and significance of taking a leisurely walk. If we have failed to receive injuries from an activity that we've participated in numerous times over the course of several months, then it stands to reason that the activity in question is perfectly safe. Wouldn't you say so, Professor?"

"Mr. Potter, there is nothing safe about grappling with magic." she disagreed. "There is a reason why wizards' duels are so heavily restricted. All of these 'spars' must stop."

" _Étranger! Tueur de la domicile!_ " Aurore cried out suddenly, glaring defiantly at the professor of transfiguration. " _Pars!"_

McGonagall didn't seem quite sure how to respond to that. Naturally, she hadn't understood the meaning of the words (nor had Harry, really), but it was clear that she was angry. Honestly, Harry felt a bit of pride that Aurore had stood up to someone, especially an adult authority figure.

"Hm, you must have really gotten her angry if she's shouting." Harry commented with deceptive nonchalance. "She usually doesn't revert to French very often, either."

"Back to the matter at hand, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said forcefully.

"Aurore is my apprentice." he interrupted, not particularly caring what his professor had been about to say. "As such, _I_ am the one who decides how to educate her, and I daresay that I know more about Magic Programming than you do, Professor. If you have a problem with my teaching methods, you may bring it up with Professor Dumbledore."

"Very well, Mr. Potter," the transfiguration professor answered stiffly. "I can see nothing I say will convince you." She stalked off back towards the house without another word.

Harry grinned in victory once her back was turned. Technically, everything he'd said was true. While Harry had no doubt that Dumbledore would have agreed with McGonagall and forced him to stop the sparring, it didn't seem as though she was going to teleport (apparate, they called it) over to Hogwarts and bring it up right now.

As long as he kept their sparring sessions at Hogwarts private in their suite, no one would be any the wiser about them, even if Dumbledore did prohibit them. After so many confining rules and regulations, the freedom was a welcome change.

"So, care to give me a translation?" Harry asked, grinning at his apprentice.

"Ah," Aurore flushed in embarrassment. "I called her 'intruder' and 'destroyer of the home' and told her to leave."

"I approve." Harry said, nodding his head in assent.

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Lord Voldemort was not pleased. Not only were his wounds resisting any attempt he'd made to heal them, but Dumbledore hadn't made a move to so much as alert anyone that he suspected him. Surely he wasn't senile enough not to? Either way, his most pressing concern was his wounds. At this rate, he would die. Again.

The only option available to him was to get to the castle's medi-witch. In order to do that, he'd have to tell her and, by extension, the rest of the staff that he'd been down where the stone had been kept. If that was the case, then how could he spin the tale to throw suspicion away from himself?

Dumbledore, the old fool, had a soft spot for people that were 'victims' of dark magic. Now that Quirrel was completely absorbed, he would show negative results if scanned for possession. Yes, that would be useful. 'A horrible thing had me possessed, there was nothing I could do!'. Yes, that would do well.

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"Dear Lord!" Madame Pomfrey exclaimed, catching sight of a heavily injured and bleeding Not-Quirrel. "Set yourself down on a bed, easy there."

The medi-witch ran a thorough diagnosis of him to see where all of his injuries were. The largest wound was centered in his chest, his torso was practically ripped open. Several ribs were broken and there was too much internal bleeding to even begin identifying all of it. Whatever curse he'd been hit with had splintered out from the chest, also causing numerous lacerations in various other parts of his body.

"Take slow, deep breaths." she ordered, digging around in her potions supply. A healing salve would help knit the flesh back together. Broken bones were easily fixed with a few spells, but only after everything else was taken care of. A blood replenishing potion would also be needed. "Here, drink this."

The defense professor raised the bottle to his lips and gulped it down without protest, his face not even curling in distaste at the less than pleasant flavor. He wouldn't be in any danger from blood loss now. Madame Pomfrey fetched a large roll of bandages and coated them with the healing salve. The professor winced in pain as she wrapped his arms, legs and chest.

"It was- it was terrible!" the disguised dark lord wheezed through the pain. "So much darkness, ohh!"

"Quiet down, I'm going to contact the headmaster." she commanded. "Don't talk yet, you might make it worse."

Not-Quirrel moaned in response, but smirked once her back was turned. Excellent, once Dumbledore arrived, he'd be able to spin his tale perfectly. That's all it would take to allay the old fool's suspicions, at least for a while. And Lord Voldemort only needed three weeks, a measly twenty one days until the night of the new moon would be upon them, the time when he would brew the Elixir of Life.

"He'll be here in a few moments." the medi-witch assured him. "Let's see about those broken bones now. _Karíkoma_ ," She waved her wand in an intricate pattern of swirls before frowning and repeating the incantation and wand motions.

Voldemort groaned emphatically and she shushed him.

"Your bones are resisting my healing spell, must have been some curse." she muttered.

"O-Ohhh," Voldemort moaned.

At that moment, Albus Dumbledore burst through the doors of the Hospital Wing and sprinted over to Not-Quirrel's bed with agility that belied his old age. His wrinkled hands curled around the metal framing of the bed as he peered down at the defense professor.

"Quirinus," he said kindly. "can you tell me what happened?"

"He- he- he-" Not-Quirrel took in a huge gulp of air and shakily breathed it out. "He came to me in the forests, Al-Albania. He- so much darkness and, and hate! He at-t-ttacked me. M-my, my soul, he l-l-latched himself to my s-soul! I c-couldn't move, couldn't s-speak. It was all him, all _him_.

"He wanted, wanted the stone, yes! The magic red stone. He w-w-wanted to use it, m-make himself wh-wh-whole. He- he couldn't g-get it, though, h-had to make _me_ get it fo-for him. He, he m-m-made me go down, d-deep down. Then the kn-knight, he f-f-fought the knight, but it was m-me, _my_ body.

The- the kn-knight used a spell, a- a curse! It h-hit me and I was- s-so much p-pain! B-but _he_ did-didn't care, m-made me go o-on. T-there was a- a mirror. And the s-stone! He t-told me to g-get the stone, g-give it to h-him, and then it was _there_. H-he left then, t-took the stone a-and left. N-now I can m-move again, o-on my own.

I m-made it to my o-office, and- and- I was so t-tired. I s-s-slept, j-just a little. Then I w-w-woke up a-and came here." Not-Quirrel faked a horrified shudder and promptly fell unconscious again, succumbing to his numerous injuries.

"Oh dear, I told him he shouldn't talk yet." Madame Pomfrey fretted.

"I must return to my office now and think on this." Dumbledore informed the medi-witch gravely. "Please tell me when he starts to get better, Poppy. I'd like to know more about the person that possessed him."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"What is that?" Aurore asked, her curiosity finally getting the better of her.

"An experiment," Harry replied, grinning widely. "With the help of those notes from the Not-Future-Me, this will become the first working magical battery! Hopefully."

Clutched in his hand was a small rounded stone roughly the size of an egg. It was covered in an intricate array of crisscrossing and swirling lines, telltale signs of Magic Programming. Harry threw the stone up in the air and caught it a few times, his whole body filled with an excited zest.

"Now, I could power this with my own magic, but it really stores a _lot_ of energy and I don't want to deplete my reserves." Harry explained. "So instead, I'm going to do the same thing I did with the wards around our home."

"The wards?" she echoed, scrunching up her eyebrows in befuddlement.

"Yes, you didn't think I powered them with my _own_ magic, did you?" Harry asked. "I tied one magical thread from every tree in about a ten mile radius to a single point. Each of those threads transfers a tiny amount of energy. Hundreds and hundreds of threads power the wards.

"So, I'm going to do the same thing again, tie one thread, maybe two or three, from every tree in the nearby vicinity, to a single point. That point will act as a charging station for the battery, theoretically."

"Umm, okay," Aurore responded, not really understanding.

"Err, there is one problem, though." Harry confessed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm going to need an hour or so to go around the forest and manipulate the threads, but with McGonagall here..."

Aurore took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. Her eyes hardened in determination.

"I could distract her." she offered.

"Really?" Harry asked, surprised at the suggestion. "I don't want you to feel like you need to do something that you don't feel comfortable with."

"I will do it." she affirmed, her voice layered with conviction.

"Alright, I'm counting on you." Harry accepted, and she scampered off to the transfiguration professor, her mind running through how to use up the most time possible. It had been a long time since she'd had a long conversation, a very long time.

"Professor McGonagall?" she called, forcing her voice into a practiced meekness and staring at her toes.

"Yes, what is it, dear?" she asked, her heart melting at the sight of the young child in spite of her frustration with her and Harry Potter.

"Well, I think we need to have a con-ver-sa-tion." And so she began her filibuster.

Meanwhile, Harry, under the enhancement of several spells, was weaving in and out of trees several hundred meters from where his home was located, mentally ordering many nearby magical threads to wrap around his wrist, building up more and more as he went on.

Eventually, he gathered up nearly a thousand threads from the trees and other large plants, each a shimmering green. All were attached to his wrist, forming a web-like structure of magical threads. In one last sprint, Harry made his way back to the clearing where his house was built and stopped in front of an old tree stump with jagged edges. It had been made several years ago by an out of control lightning spell hitting a tree and reached up to Harry's shoulder.

With one final mental command, Harry unraveled all of the threads from around his wrist and tied them to the stump. A significant amount of energy was now flowing into the stump and would continue to do so without pause.

Smiling in satisfaction at a job well done, Harry placed his prototype magical battery atop the stump and watched as it started to absorb the energy. A few hours later, it would be fully saturated, or so he hoped.

With his task accomplished, Harry dispelled his speed enhancements and started for the cabin where Aurore was hopefully still stalling his currently least favorite professor (with the exception of the headmaster).

"-really quite remarkable that you understand so much about transfiguration, even if it's hard for you to put it into words. Why, if I didn't know better, I'd think you've been doing it for years!" Professor McGonagall's voice sounded from inside.

"Thank you," Aurore replied softly.

"Hello, hope I'm not interrupting anything too important." Harry cut in. "But you've had Aurore for over an hour now and I'd like to get back to teaching her Magic Programming."

"Oh my, has it really been so long?" McGonagall checked a small, mechanical watch around her wrist. "I'm afraid I must return to grading papers now. It was wonderful talking with you, dear."

"You as well," Aurore responded sweetly, ducking her head and following Harry back outside.

"She seemed rather lively." Harry commented.

"Professor McGonagall isn't a bad person, she just... doesn't understand us." she explained.

"Her and the rest of the world," Harry sighed wistfully.

"What about Hermione and Neville and Fred and George?" Aurore wondered, tilting her head.

"Well, maybe not the entire rest of the world," Harry admitted with a small smile. "And I guess what I hope is that that group of people, people that understand, will continue to grow. That would he nice, wouldn't it, Aurore?"

"Yeah," she agreed, plopping down into the snow, seemingly unfazed by the coldness and wetness of it against her legs.

The two stayed there, silently enjoying each other's presence, one sitting and the other standing, until the sun began to sink below the horizon and stars began to dot the skies a half hour later. The perfect half-circle moon shined down on the pair, casting a silvery glow around their silhouettes. For the first time in months, Harry knew peace.


	21. The End

"The real chapter will replace this one in a few days", I believe that was what I said. Well, I lied. Yes, that's right, I, the author who promised you all new content, has lied. Well, I suppose there _will_ be new content, but not a new chapter.

Instead, I am doing a complete overhaul and reconstruction of the story, complete with a new name. This fic will remain, but I expect it will gather dust in the seldom visited middle of the archive quite soon. Instead, look forward to something that I'll actually take seriously (though perhaps I might add in another dummy chapter come April 1, 2017).

Sorry if any of you are disappointed, but my decision is not to be influenced by anything; I have made up my mind. Maybe I'll devise a really badass name for it like "The Network Paradigm". No, that's stupid, I shouldn't do that.

Anyways, be on the lookout for any new stories authored by _moi._ I'll add an announcement to this story once it's up for your convenience.

Chao.

—Fasiah


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